A Second Destiny
by Mirage Shinkiro
Summary: G1. After Wheeljack loses the sparkling he was carrying, he and Ratchet struggle to heal from their grief and to become genitors again. Side story to "No Quiet to Find," but you don't have to read it to read this. WxR, mature, sparklings.
1. Sparking

_Title: A Second Destiny_  
_Author:_ Mirage Shinkiro

_**Rating:**_** M  
**_**Warnings:**_** mech/mech plug 'n' play and spark bonding,** a.k.a. intimacy between androgynous and nonsexually reproducing but male-"pronoun'd" 'bots.

_Disclaimer:_ I claim no ownership of TF, which belongs to Hasbro and Takara, and I'm not making any money from this.

_Summary:_ G1. After Wheeljack loses the sparkling he was carrying, he and Ratchet struggle to heal from their grief and to become genitors again. Side story to "No Quiet to Find," but you don't have to read it to read this. WxR

_**Summary of "No Quiet" for background info:**_ "No Quiet" is an AU set directly after TFTM 1986. Prowl, Ratchet, and Wheeljack were reactivated after many surgeries and repairs and are still alive. Wheeljack had been carrying a sparkling during the attack on Autobot City, but he lost it due to his extensive injuries. He and Ratchet promised to keep trying until they spark again, but when Prowl and Jazz succeeded in sparking first, it caused them extra pain and grief.

_A/N, notes:_ :: :: will indicate comm. link or inter-bond talking. The concept of filament extensions came from Wyntir Rose's "Always and Forever."

_A/N, units of time (source, TFwiki):_ nanoklik=1 second; klik=1.2minutes; breem=8.3 minutes; joor=roughly an hour; orn=a day; and vorn=83 years.

oOoOo

_Set directly after chapter 5 and several weeks before chapter 6 of "No Quiet." Ratchet and Wheeljack have spark merged the previous night._

oOoOo

_**Chapter 1: Sparking**_

Wheeljack slipped onto a repair berth and fidgeted, trying and failing to hide his nervousness. As he waited for Ratchet to retrieve a scanner, he tried to distract himself by picking relentlessly at his leg armor. Given how hard they'd been trying to generate a sparkling, Wheeljack found he couldn't remain calm for his exam. Around him, the medbay was silent save for Ratchet's footsteps, the early morning quiet unbroken by anything except the hum of computer fans. However, instead of bringing him comfort, it only made him tenser.

"Relax," Ratchet said softly as he approached the berth. "Even if we didn't succeed last night, we got an excellent surge, so we should succeed soon."

"I can't help it," Wheeljack whispered, shifting restlessly. "We went ten orns without even trying, and then we did spark so powerfully . . ."

Ratchet reached up and triggered the release on Wheeljack's blast mask, then cupped his cheek. "Hey, we've struggled to make it this far, but despite our wounds and exhaustion, we'll succeed."

Wheeljack smiled, trying his best to remain positive. "I know. I promised you we would."

"It's not all dependent on you, even if your systems are optimal for carrying." Ratchet released his cheek and raised the scanner, running it over Wheeljack's chest. "Hmmm. The reading is ambiguous. Open your spark chamber for me so I can inspect it visibly."

Faintly trembling with tension, Wheeljack transformed the armor, folding it away from his spark. He wouldn't let himself look down, however, and instead trained his gaze on Ratchet's shoulder, staring at the red cross.

Ratchet leaned forward and gazed intently. "No sparkling."

Wheeljack flinched, unable to stop a surge of pain. _I was so sure it'd worked that time,_ he thought, trying to hold back a wave of despair.

"However, there is good news." Ratchet straightened and squeezed his shoulders. "Your spark is retaining extra energy, and you have a Halo Effect."

"I do?" Wheeljack finally glanced down, feeling a flash of hope. Sure enough, a faint blue halo surrounded his spark, making it look twenty percent larger than normal as the halo's energy brushed the spark's energy. "Primus! We were so close."

"Since your systems are at a hundred percent, the Halo Effect should last for a good fifteen joors." Ratchet grinned.

Wheeljack's entire body tingled as desire flowed through their bond. He closed his chest armor and returned the grin. "Oh? Are you suggesting we try again today?"

"I wouldn't be opposed to trying several times today." Ratchet subspaced the scanner and snaked his arms around Wheeljack's shoulders. "In fact, since it's basically my fault we went so many orns without trying, I think I should give you extra special treatment." He ran his fingertips across Wheeljack's winglets, caressing the thin metal and setting off several sensory nodes.

Wheeljack shivered. "Oh, really? That wouldn't be 'revenge' for what I did to you last night, then?"

Ratchet laughed and grasped his chin with one hand. "Maybe. Or maybe I just want to see you moan."

Feeling his core body temperature jump several degrees, Wheeljack wrapped his hands around Ratchet's waist and pulled him close. "I haven't seen you this ready-to-go first thing in the morning for a long time."

Ratchet simply grinned and leaned down, brushing their lips together. "Maybe I should do something dangerous, like take you right here on this berth."

"Ratch!" Wheeljack felt simultaneously shocked and aroused, but he didn't get the chance to say anything more. Ratchet kissed him, coaxing his lips apart and slipping his glossa into his mouth. Wheeljack moaned and pressed into the kiss, suddenly not caring if half the base saw them.

A horrified voice interrupted them. "Ah, frag! I did _not_ want to see that!"

With a groan, they pulled apart and glanced toward the medbay doors where Sunstreaker stood, his arms crossed. Several dents and patches of grey paint decorated his chassis.

"Sunny!" Ratchet growled, releasing Wheeljack. "Well, you wouldn't have had to see it if you'd just quit being so frisky with your bondmate." He pointed to an empty berth. "For someone who obsesses about his paint job, you sure are sloppy."

Sunstreaker snorted but made his way to the berth. "Hey, it's not like Blue's complaining."

Wheeljack shook his head and slipped off his own berth. "I didn't want to know that." Still, secretly he was amused. _Ah, the antics of those young and newly-bonded,_ he mused to himself with a small smile.

"Why were you two making out here?" Sunstreaker asked as he lay down. "Aren't you guys too old for exhibitionism?"

Cringing, Wheeljack awaited Ratchet's nasty retort to the 'old' comment, but to his surprise, his mate chose another route.

Ratchet was giving Sunstreaker a fake sweet smile. "Because we've decided to spark and have twins, and we're going to make them both top-of-the-line Lamborghinis. Then we're going to set them loose to terrorize you and Sides."

Wheeljack laughed at Sunstreaker's wide-opticed horror. He looked like someone had just threatened to scrub his entire chassis with steel wool.

"Don't even joke like that," Sunstreaker finally muttered.

Ratchet gave him a maniacal laugh worthy of Galvatron.

oOoOo

Wheeljack sat in his lab staring at his computer terminal, where a sparkling design rotated on-screen. He sighed, forcing himself to leave the image up despite the pain it caused him to look at her, and crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. When he'd created the specs and begun construction for the sparkling, he'd never imagined a battle as severe as the attack on Autobot City would take place. But fate had held a nasty turn in store for him, and now the unused protoform was locked in storage.

"I still say she's beautiful."

Wheeljack jumped, shocked to not have heard Ratchet enter the room, and glanced over his shoulder, watching his bondmate as he approached. "I know." His gaze wandered back to the root mode pictured on screen. The sparkling had a solid white body except for the pale grey of her face, hands, and lower legs. A red chevron graced her helm, and red and green racing stripes ran down her torso. They had already given her a designation and decided to call her Joyride. But Joyride had not even had the chance to live.

Wheeljack shook his head and pulled himself out of his thoughts. "We couldn't have done a better job designing her, really."

Ratchet hugged him from behind and kissed the top of his helm. "We'll spark, 'Jack. She'll come to life, just you wait and see."

Struck by Ratchet's sudden optimism, Wheeljack twisted in his embrace and looked up at him. "You suddenly seem so certain."

"The Halo Effect is an excellent sign." Ratchet smiled sadly. "And it's not fair. I've been the cynical, angry one-especially when I found out Prowl and Jazz had sparked twins-and you've been strong all this time, quick to comfort and reassure me. It's time I returned the favor."

Wheeljack offlined his optics and leaned against Ratchet's chest. "It _has_ been hard." Just saying the words aloud lifted some of weight from his mind. "But you were injured even worse than I was, and you're still only functioning at 97.4 percent. I knew you needed me to be strong." He sighed, relaxing as Ratchet pulled him closer and rubbed his back.

"You're strong, all right," Ratchet murmured, massaging the joints where Wheeljack's winglets were connected to his back.

Wheeljack shivered reflexively as tension eased out of various cables. "I've been jealous of Prowl and Jazz, too. Happy for them, but jealous. I don't want those negative thoughts, but sometimes it hurts so much I want to purge my tanks. And in my nightmares, I see the image over and over: Soundwave shooting and me being unable to dodge in time. I feel the burst in my chest, and then I'm falling and-"

"Shhh." Ratchet kissed the top of his helm again. "Look, our shifts are over, and we can actually leave on time since there's no one in medbay, much less anyone with a critical injury. Hoist is going to be bored out of his mind. So let's just go back to our quarters and relax together."

Wheeljack onlined his optics and simply nodded. "Okay."

Ratchet released him and held out his hand, which Wheeljack accepted, content to be pampered for the time being. They held hands all the way to their quarters, simply smiling or nodding to the shocked 'bots they passed in the hallway. Wheeljack found himself amused at his friend's surprise, even if it was rare for him to leave his blast mask open or for Ratchet and him to hold hands publically.

Once they'd reached their quarters, they curled up with each other on their couch, leaving the cabin lights dimmed. It took some shifting, but Wheeljack could always arrange himself comfortably against Ratchet's larger chest.

"There," Ratchet whispered as Wheeljack settled in. They wrapped their arms around each other, and after a klik of silence, Ratchet spoke again. "I really am sorry I haven't been more supportive through all this. You're right about me. You always have been. I just bury myself in my work and hope the pain will vanish."

"I've just been bottling mine up." Wheeljack offlined his optics again, pulling a deep drought of air through his intakes and letting himself smile. "We're getting better, though, step-by-step."

Ratchet kissed his forehead. "This is one of the reasons I fell in love with you to begin with. You're always so positive. You never stay down for long, and you never give up."

"Maybe I'm just stubborn." Wheeljack chuckled.

"Okay, I can agree with that, too." The voice was mischievous.

Wheeljack onlined his optics and feigned outrage. "Hey!"

Ratchet was grinning. "I'm stubborn, too," he admitted, then brushed their lips together.

"Far more than I am," Wheeljack teased.

Ratchet snorted, then kissed him into silence, and Wheeljack slipped his glossa into his mouth, caressing and rubbing their glossae together. Ratchet moaned and stroked one of Wheeljack's winglets, drawing a shudder from him as the sensor nodes flared to life.

Realizing they'd make short work of each other, Wheeljack broke their kiss and grinned. "Why don't we move to the berth so we'll have more space?"

"Sounds good to me."

They stood, stealing kisses from each other as they crossed the room. When they reached the berth, Wheeljack leaned into Ratchet and brushed his lips across his audio. "We also don't waste time," he whispered, much amused.

Ratchet shivered at the touch. "No, I guess we don't." He turned Wheeljack around and eased him face-down onto their berth. "But remember, I said I'd give you special treatment today, so just relax and let me tease you."

"That's a bit contradictory." Wheeljack groaned in appreciation as Ratchet ran his hands down his chassis. "But okay."

Ratchet straddled the back of his legs and leaned down, nibbling the back of his neck. "Good." He ran his fingers over his winglets, caressing them with light strokes and causing Wheeljack to moan and arc upward. However, Ratchet pressed his shoulders down to the berth. "Now, now," he whispered into his audio. "You're all mine right now."

Wheeljack shuddered at the sexy tone and knew he was utterly doomed. "A-all right."

With a faint chuckle, Ratchet resumed his efforts, kissing down his back and the licking slowly up the edge of one winglet. Wheeljack hissed in pleasure, but with Ratchet still holding him down, he couldn't even involuntarily move. Then Ratchet kissed his way over to the opposite winglet, licking across the expanse of sensitized metal, and Wheeljack moaned faintly.

"Ah, frag," Wheeljack gasped, his active imagination guessing what would come next.

"Very definitely," Ratchet said, his lips brushing his winglet as he spoke, and then he began sucking winglet's edge softly. He released one of Wheeljack's shoulders and moved his hand to the opposite winglet. After a pause, Wheeljack felt the warm, smooth medical filaments extend from Ratchet's fingers and slip into his transformation seam, setting the circuits ablaze as the wires parted under the gentle penetration.

Wheeljack cried out, bucking under the touch. "R-ratchet!"

"Stay still for me, love." Warm lips grazed his neck.

Struggling against his natural impulse to return the touches, Wheeljack forced himself to lie still, and he panted, drawing air into his systems in an attempt to cool them.

"That's right," Ratchet whispered, and Wheeljack felt the other hand against his opposite winglet. He moaned, his body burning with anticipation. He felt the soft extensions pressing into the seam, slowly parting the wires, and then Ratchet released a pulse of electricity through his circuits. Wheeljack's moans broke into a yell.

Ratchet shifted and then licked his vocal indicator, tracing its edges even as he slowly pressed his fingers into Wheeljack's shoulder joints, caressing the circuits with soft pulses. Unable to support any of his weight, Wheeljack lay collapsed against the berth and moaned helplessly. Ratchet was deep inside him, stroking places rarely ever touched, and all he could do was lie there and gasp in pleasure, overcome by the feelings.

Gently extracting his fingers, Ratchet crawled off of him and carefully flipped him over onto his back. "I haven't seen you this relaxed in a long while," he quipped, kissing and nibbling his way down his throat.

"I'm so paying you back in the morning." Wheeljack leaned his head back, exposing more of his throat, and shivered at the touches.

Ratchet laughed and kissed down his chassis, only to stop and hover at his interface chamber. "Then I better really give you something worth paying back."

Realizing what his bondmate had in mind, Wheeljack gasped. "Oh, Primus-"

Ratchet leaned down and licked the rim of the panel door, teasing it. Wheeljack cried out, arching his hips upward into the contact; however, Ratchet grabbed his hips and pressed them to the berth.

"You aren't escaping," he whispered, licking the seam again.

Wheeljack writhed against him and moaned, grabbing his upper arms brutally. But he didn't pull away, didn't try to tease back as usual. Instead, he triggered his chamber open, then screamed in pleasure as Ratchet dipped his glossa inside, licking the coiled wire and port there.

"Slaggit, Ratch!" He gasped, his hips bucking upward despite the powerful grip on them. But Ratchet just delved in again, teasing and tormenting him as he licked the cord and port.

"_Ratchet!_" Wheeljack tugged on his arms, his entire frame shaking. "Take me already!"

At those words, Ratchet immediately moved up his body and triggered his own chamber open. "That's a request I can't deny," he said, smiling. He pulled out Wheeljack's cord, caressing it once before snapping it into his dataport, then plugged his own cord into Wheeljack's port. Wheeljack arched against him as he sent an intense wave of energy through his body.

Ratchet wrapped his arms under his shoulders and head, pulling him into a kiss as he sent a second pulse through him. Wheeljack moaned into the kiss, then sent the pulse back, radiating heat through his bondmate's body. Ratchet gasped, so Wheeljack sent a harder pulse, a surge of energy that looped through them and made them both cry out.

::I can't hold on any longer!:: Wheeljack said through their bond.

::Open up for me.:: Ratchet transformed his armor, moving it away from his spark chamber.

Wheeljack immediately folded back his plating and pressed their chests together, making their sparks collide powerfully. They both screamed, their pleasure multiplied and intensified as their minds and essences merged. Clinging to each other, they moaned as pulse after pulse raced between their sparks and burned through their cords. Arching into one another, they overloaded, yelling with the climax before knocking each other offline.

oOoOo

Wheeljack awakened first, realized his spark chamber had triggered closed from his emergency protection protocols, and relaxed. A klik later, Ratchet stirred and propped himself up, looking tired still. His spark chamber had closed as well.

"Wow," Wheeljack said, grinning. "You really went out of your way to overload me as much as possible."

Ratchet laughed. "Just taking excellent advantage of the Halo Effect. Not to mention I love to tease you senseless."

Still connected through their dataports, Wheeljack pinged his bondmate with a pulse of joy and love. "If that didn't generate a sparkling, I don't know what will."

"Oh, I dunno." Ratchet gave him a naughty little smirk. "If that doesn't work I'll haul out the energizer and tease your spark with it until you forget your name."

Wheeljack shivered as a raging wave of lust passed through his circuits. "If I am carrying now, you're going to get it out anyway, and _I'm_ going to tease _you_ senseless."

"I won't exactly complain." Ratchet chuckled and disconnected their cords, coiling them back into place. "Let's get to the medbay." He paused, then smiled softly. "Actually, more than enough time has passed. Open up for me again and let me have a look."

Wheeljack returned the smile, feeling oddly touched at the intimacy, and triggered his spark chamber open. Ratchet's faint gasp told him what he wanted to know.

"We did it," Ratchet whispered.

Wheeljack gazed down at his chest, where a tiny blue sparkling was nestled against his own spark, a ribbon of energy passing between them. "Yeah, we did." He burned the sight into his memory banks, too overjoyed to speak further, then closed his chest and kissed his bondmate.

Ratchet returned the kiss, a slow, gentle one. When they parted, he caressed Wheeljack's cheek. "Now let's go. I want to run a full diagnostic."

Wheeljack nodded, and they climbed off their berth, holding each other's hands tightly as they made their way to the medbay. Ratchet spent three solid breems running scans and taking energy readings, and then finally nodded in satisfaction.

"The sparkling is strong. Very strong." Ratchet laughed.

"You did give it everything you had," Wheeljack teased. He smiled as his touched his chest, relieved to know he was a genitor again. "We should summon Prowl and Jazz and tell them. I think they'd want to be the first to know, even if we wait a long time to tell anyone else."

Ratchet opened his comm. link. "Sure." He paused as the link went live. ::Ratchet to Prowl.::

A groggy voice wafted over the connection. ::Prowl here.::

::Would you and Jazz mind stopping by medbay momentarily?::

A pause, then Jazz's voice came over the link instead. ::Ya sound awful happy, Ratch! We'll be there in a few kliks.::

Wheeljack sat up on the berth and swung his legs over the side. Sitting by him, Ratchet put his arm around his shoulders and hugged him.

"Love you," Ratchet whispered.

Wheeljack wrapped his arm around his waist and hugged back. "Love you, too."

A few peaceful kliks passed as they leaned against each other, then the medbay doors hissed open, admitting Prowl and Jazz. Jazz took one look at them and whooped.

"It's good news, right?" he asked. "Tell me ya sparked!"

Wheeljack laughed. "We're that obvious, huh?"

"That's wonderful." Prowl smiled at them. "Congratulations. I knew you could do it."

Jazz just ran across the room and gave them a hug. "Group hug," he joked. Wheeljack and Ratchet used their free arms to hug him back, and when he released them, he grinned. "That's awesome. Congrats, ya two."

A dry voice interrupted them from the doorway. "What? More public displays of affection?"

Everyone turned to stare at Sunstreaker, who was covered in grey paint patches.

"Not again," Ratchet said.

Sunstreaker was shaking his head at Jazz. "You really have gotten super touchy-feely since you started carrying."

Prowl was glaring at him. "Is that _Bluestreak's_ paint?"

Sunstreaker grew very still. "Hey, we're bonded. You can't exactly say anything . . . sir."

"Oh, really?" Jazz crossed his arms. "Who said we had to _say_ anything? The last time I checked I was more creative than that."

Sunstreaker held up both hands. "Look, I realize you guys see him as an adopted sparkling, but he's an adult. And we're _bonded._" He glanced at Wheeljack and Ratchet and frowned. "I'm more interested in why I've caught you two engaging in PDA two mornings in a row. And what was that 'congratulations' for?"

Wheeljack and Ratchet traded looks, then Ratchet stood and grinned evilly. "Oh, nothing much. Like we told you yesterday, Wheeljack and I have decided to have twins."

"So we decided to tell Prowl and Jazz our plan," Wheeljack added, standing as well, "and now we've agreed we should make all four sparklings Lamborghini models. You and Sides won't get a single night's recharge for the next vorn."

Jazz burst into laughter.

"Never mind," Sunstreaker said. "I'll return when you all are acting less weird." He snorted and left the room.

Ratchet turned to Wheeljack, his expression totally deadpan. "I wonder how he'll react when he finds out we really have sparked."

Wheeljack grinned. "I can't wait until both him and Sides find out we really did choose a Lamborghini model for Joyride's alt mode."

"That should be priceless!" Ratchet laughed. "I want their expressions recorded for all time."

"I'll rig the security cameras to capture it if you just set a time," Jazz said.

"And I know the perfect time," Prowl added. "Since many of our friends will have to travel from Cybertron for our Sparkling Unveiling ceremony, we should double up and use the party to unveil your sparkling as well."

Wheeljack stared at him, feeling oddly nervous. "Well, that's logical. But I'll only be five Earth weeks into the gestation process, and if something goes wrong-"

"Nothing will go wrong," Prowl interrupted. "Even Ratchet has said you're in perfect health."

Ratchet shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "That's true, but after all we've been through, it's just that-"

Jazz slipped behind them and swung an arm around each of their shoulders. "It's just that ya need a big party! It's time to let go of some of that grief so ya can celebrate. Grab the future for all it's worth, man. These are our sparklin's yer talkin' about."

"I suppose you're right." Wheeljack gave Ratchet a smile. "We can easily get Joyride ready in time since we've already started."

Ratchet nodded. "Very well. Let's do it."

Jazz released them and clapped his hands together. "Excellent! Watch out universe, the Triple Terrors are headed yer way!"

"Don't curse us like that," Prowl said, but he was smiling.

Ratchet laughed again, and Wheeljack grinned to himself, feeling as though a hole in his spark had finally been filled.

* * *

_Postscript: Edited Sept. 13, 2009. The Joyride mentioned in this chapter should not be confused with the Powermaster of the same designation._


	2. Our Greatest Fears, expanded

_A/N: __**For readers of "No Quiet": You may skip the first two scenes in this chapter.**__ Obviously, if you are not reading "No Quiet," then you do need to read it._

_I decided to mix the idea of protoforms from Beast Wars/TFA with the straight-up designing and building or Vector Sigma/Creation Matrix infusion from the G1cartoon and comic. I also may refer to the budding process from G2 as something that is outlawed, and obviously have used the fan fave, sparking. At any rate, as a result, I've created an in-between version of procreation and will be using the protoform concept in a modified way for the entirety of this story and especially this chapter._

_**Edit:**__ This chapter was originally two separate ones. However, after finishing "No Quiet" and pondering it awhile, I realized I needed less overlap and combined the two chapters. My apologies for any confusion._

_

* * *

  
_

_**Chapter 2: Our Greatest Fears **_

Ratchet was not a morning 'bot.

Ratchet had never been a morning 'bot.

Glancing around the ICU room he meant to convert for emergency sparkling procedures, Ratchet sometimes felt like he wasn't an afternoon, evening, or night 'bot because, regardless of the time of day, he was stuck with endless repairs, repairs, repairs. The Twins would get too feisty in battle or play a messy prank on someone, or Tracks would be having a fit over some scratch on his paint job. Powerglide would overdo his heroics, or Wheeljack would blow himself up, although right now he wasn't allowed to work with anything that could possibly go "bang." Still, it was the "bang" part that worried Ratchet.

Since the medbay was mercifully empty, Ratchet rearranged the ICU 1, then began storing the new supplies from Cybertron that First Aid had brought with him. Before long, the medbay door hissed open, and Wheeljack ran in, his blast mask not even closed after apparently inhaling his breakfast. "Why didn't you wake me?"

Ratchet glanced up from the main supply cabinet, feeling his bondmate's chagrin at being two joors late for his shift. "Because you needed the rest." He smiled. "If you have to carry again, the least I can do is keep you fed and rested."

Glancing around the medbay and seeing they were alone, Wheeljack walked over and kissed him. "Sweet, but unnecessary."

"Liar." Ratchet knew perfectly well how hard it was on 'Jack to carry so soon again and was dead set on pampering him.

Wheeljack laughed and glanced into the cabinet. "I take it you've finished stocking the supply shipment."

With a frown, Ratchet surveyed the contents; coils of wires, microchips, circuits, and various other components were arranged in labeled boxes. "Yeah, I couldn't wait any longer. We've been dangerously low on parts for so long now I was beginning to have nightmares about going into surgery without them."

"That _is_ a nightmare." Wheeljack shuddered faintly and snaked his arm around Ratchet's waist. "Although we've done it before."

"With three sparklings in my care, I don't even want to consider it." Ratchet pointed to ICU 1. "I've spent the morning setting up an ICU chamber for emergency separation surgery just in case Jazz's sparkling decides to act up on us." _Or you go off and manage to make something innocent explode,_ he thought to himself, half with affection and half from worry. He wrapped his arm around Wheeljack's shoulders. "I aim to be prepared. In fact, I aim to be over-prepared."

Wheeljack nodded and leaned against his bondmate. "Yeah, it's best." He sighed, a melancholy sound. "I hope it doesn't come to that. I don't want to see them have to face even a fraction of the suffering we did."

Ratchet placed his hand on Wheeljack's chest, over his spark chamber. "I don't either. And frankly, although I didn't want to let on, it did take all the courage I had to let Carly announce our news last night." He stared blankly at his hand. "If something goes wrong this time, I don't think I can—"

"Don't." Wheeljack leaned up and kissed him. "Don't even think about it. Let's just focus on positive things: our sparkling is strong, and the protoform is excellent, even if I have to say so myself."

With a small smile, Ratchet kissed him back. "Everyone did seem impressed with it, especially Arcee and Moonracer."

Wheeljack nodded, then glanced over the quiet medbay. "Sometimes I wish it could always be this way. I wish this war would end, but after hundreds of vorns, I know better."

"As you said, let's focus on what's good: at least we're still here and have each other." Ratchet hugged him closer.

Wheeljack smiled sadly. "Yeah . . . at least we have that . . ."

oOoOo

Around midnight, the red alert alarm flared to life, jerking both Ratchet and Wheeljack from their recharge.

"Now what?" Ratchet growled, mostly irritated but also concerned. He stood up from their berth, preparing to contact the command center.

Wheeljack stood as well, then grew still in the manner that suggested he was getting an incoming message. "Ah, frag!" Without any explanation, he ran from the room.

A moment later Ratchet's comm. link activated. ::Prowl to Ratchet. Prepare medbay for wounded.::

::Acknowledged.:: Ratchet wanted to kill with his bare hands the first Decepticon he saw. _Of all the blasted times to attack! Slaggin' 'Cons._ First Aid was still on Earth, but he was in the Netherlands helping with some kind of riot. _I guess Hoist and I will be dealing with most of this because there's no way I'm leaving 'Jack at risk._ He reached through his bond. _::'Jack, as soon as you're finished carrying out whatever order you received, go to the bomb shelter!::_

_::I will, I will,::_ came the reply. _::I should be down there in a klik or two.::_

_::Hurry!::_ Ratchet said, and knowing Wheeljack wouldn't argue, raced to medbay. More quickly than he liked, the wounded began coming in, and he was up to his servos in leaking energon and torn metal.

Two breems into the battle, Ratchet feared Autobot City wouldn't survive the attacks. The entire city shook from missile impacts, and as the floor shuddered violently, Ratchet was thrown against a repair berth. "Slaggit!" He steadied himself and glanced around to see if any supplies had fallen onto the floor.

Hound, his newest patient, moaned faintly. "Fraggin' . . . 'Cons . . ." His optics were dim and unfocused, indicating he would soon slip into emergency stasis lock.

"Hush." Ratchet picked up a welder and began sealing a deep gash on his side. He had to work quickly to seal the leaking energon lines and narrowed the flame. Hound would need four replacement lines in his side, but given the depth of the wound, it could have been worse.

All around him, chaos multiplied. Hoist and Grapple rushed between patients. Gears bled energon all over his berth and the floor. Broadside and Topspin both sat against the wall, groaning in their half-unconscious states. Mirage was in stasis lock, his shoulder crushed, and Beachcomber had collapsed three steps into the room and lay crumpled on the floor. Then Swoop entered, carrying a screaming Powerglide over to a berth.

"Him Powerglide lost wing," Swoop told Ratchet, his empathy obvious in his voice. Laying down the wounded plane, he hovered at his side, looking torn between staying to help and returning to the fight.

"Seal off any leaks," Ratchet yelled over the noise, making Swoop's decision for him. "Your training is more than adequate for that. And get Beachcomber out of the doorway."

Swoop complied, moving Beachcomber to an open berth. Ratchet sighed in relief as First Aid hailed him on his private comm. link.

::First Aid to Ratchet. Protectobots approaching. I'll be there to help in approximately three kliks.::

::Acknowledged. Please hurry.:: However, before his relief could sink in, Ratchet felt a pulse of horror through his bond. He tensed, recognizing Wheeljack's panic as the kind associated with a dying friend. Before Ratchet could send an inquiry over the bond, however, Blurr swept into medbay.

"Medicalemergency! Prowl'sbeenhitinthechest." He skidded to a stop by Ratchet's side.

Feeling sick to his tanks, Ratchet took in the sight of the pinkish-purple energon plastered on Prowl's frame. "Ah, slaggit! ICU 1, immediately!"

Blurr seemed to vanish, and Ratchet turned off the welder, throwing it down. "Sorry, Hound!" He hated abandoning patients mid-treatment, but he had no choice. He ran for the ICU, yelling orders as he went. "Hoist! Emergency surgery!" He reactivated his comm. link and was unable to keep the panic from his voice. ::Ratchet to First Aid. Get the frag here, now! Sparkling separation emergency.::

::One klik or less!:: First Aid sounded equally panicked.

Ratchet raced into ICU 1, Hoist and Grapple both on his heels. Blurr had deposited Prowl on the berth. "Hoist, seal off the leaks. Grapple, get the energon feed ready. Blurr, get Kimi's protoform out of storage cabinet E4!"

Blurr zipped from the room without even replying as Hoist and Grapple scrambled into action. Ratchet scanned Prowl's chest and, seeing the extent of the damage, immediately began removing what was left of his armor. His fingers tried to slip from the split energon, but most pieces came away with nothing more than a simple tug.

"Slag, slag, slag!" Ratchet tossed aside the armor, desperately worried by the fading life signs of his patient.

Blurr raced back with Kimi's body. "WheredoIputher?"

"Just hold her." Ratchet ripped out the final panel, revealing Prowl's scorched and punctured spark chamber.

First Aid ran into the room then, his expression panicked. "Primus! I was a fool to ever think the Autobots didn't need me." He grabbed Kimi's protoform from Blurr and opened her spark chamber.

"This has to be done fast but perfectly, or she's lost." Ratchet had never felt so sick in his life. He opened Prowl's spark chamber and saw the two pale energy balls, each growing faint. "Frag!" He jerked the padded energy forceps from the tool table and held them in one hand while he picked up the energy nullifier in the other. "Ready?"

"Ready!" First Aid stepped forward, holding Kimi's body alongside Prowl's.

Ratchet grimaced, then snapped the nullifier between the two sparks, cutting the power flow between them. At the same time, he grabbed the sparkling with the energy forceps and immediately transferred it to Kimi's chest. The sparkling settled into its spark chamber, shining brighter as it accepted its home and lighting Kimi's armor with a blue glow. "Go!"

First Aid rushed Kimi to the smaller berth in the corner, Hoist following with him to help in stabilizing the sparkling.

"Don't lose her!" Ratchet felt coolant burn his optics. "Slaggit." He tossed down the forceps and lifted the nullifier, careful not to touch or jar Prowl's weakened spark.

Grapple took position across from him. "All leaks sealed. Energon feed attached."

"Bring me the charger." Ratchet trembled as Prowl's spark grew fainter. "We're losing him."

Grapple snatched the cart and rolled it over, and Ratchet grabbed the wand, holding it over Prowl's spark.

"Energizer charged!" Grapple stepped clear.

Ratchet touched the wand's tip to Prowl's spark, giving it a jolt of energy. The glow remained faint. "Again!"

A pause. "Charged."

He energized the spark again. Nothing. Prowl was losing his remaining lifeforce quickly. "Increase the energon feed and recharge the unit."

Grapple immediately complied. "Increased!" He checked the cart's readout. "Charged."

Ratchet hit the spark with another jolt of energy, knowing he was out of time. Then Prowl's spark flared like a miniature nova—a death flare—and Ratchet screamed, unable to hold back his anguish at the knowledge the spark would extinguish.

"No!" He threw down the wand, coolant pooling in his eyes. "Primus, no! You can't die! We—we saved your sparkling." He glanced at the corner for verification, and First Aid met his gaze.

"She's stable," First Aid said, his voice quiet. "Kimi is officially alive."

The news made Ratchet ache from the bitter irony. Prowl's spark flare died down, and Ratchet offlined his optics, not wanting to see the darkened chest.

"Ratchet?" Grapple whispered. "Ratchet, look!"

He onlined his optics and forced himself to look at Prowl's body. A faintly pulsing spark met his gaze, so pale he could see through it. "P-primus!" He picked up the wand again. "Half charge."

Another pause. "Charged."

Ratchet touched the spark carefully, feeding it just enough energy to stabilize it but not to overtax it. The ball expanded, its blue glow growing thicker. "Got him, but he's really weak." He set down the wand, shut Prowl's spark chamber, and collected himself. "Time for emergency repairs. I want him completely stabilized in two breems!"

"Hoist and I will get the parts." Grapple rushed from the room, his friend close behind him.

First Aid stepped up to the berth, taking Grapple's place. "We'll save him," he murmured, "so don't be afraid." He looked at Blurr. "Please rush Kimi to the bomb shelter and give her to Jazz. She's completely stable, but please stay with them in case a problem occurs."

"Yesssir!" Blurr picked Kimi up gently, then raced from the room.

Ratchet sucked several deep droughts of air through his intakes, trying to calm himself. He felt a nudge against his bond and opened his mind to Wheeljack's mental knock.

::Ratchet? Are they okay?:: Wheeljack's pain and fear were tangible, like a mental burning sensation between them.

::Kimi is stable. Blurr is bringing her to you and Jazz. Prowl is alive but is in critical condition. We're going to start surgery now.::

::Understood.:: Wheeljack withdrew, leaving only a hum of strength to vibrate between them.

Ratchet nodded to himself, drawing on both their strength, then met First Aid's gaze. "Let's begin."

Joors would pass before anyone got rest.

oOoOo

Wheeljack awakened with a start, a pain flashing through his chest. _What?_ he wondered, worried. _Why do I have a pain? I'm only eight Earth weeks into the gestation!_ He stared at the orangey-gold ceiling of his and Ratchet's quarters, running a systems analysis, but found nothing. He forced himself to relax and check his chronometer, and to his relief found that he wasn't due for his duty shift for another two breems.

Ratchet was conspicuous by his absence, having likely gotten up early to release Prowl from medbay. Although it had taken joors of surgery to stabilize him, Prowl's self-repair systems had closed in the gaps after only seven orns, and he was glitching from boredom and worry. The sooner Ratchet could kick him out, the better they would both feel. Wheeljack also knew Ratchet preferred to check over Kimi as soon as he awakened, since they were all worried that she might not survive after having to be separated from Prowl a full Earth month early. Not to mention Jazz, whose weak sparkling had caused him to fall into stasis lock . . .

Knowing he had patients to help with, Wheeljack tried to convince himself to get up. Ratchet had left him a cube of energon again, and he was hungry. For a moment, though, all he did was smile at Ratchet's thoughtfulness, his Gestation Protection program making him overly sentimental. Thanks to his rough attitude, sometimes others could forget how sweet Ratchet really was.

"Slaggin' subroutine and its glitches," Wheeljack mumbled, although he knew the program existed solely to protect his sparkling. _Still,_ he thought, _I could do without the irritability, the melodrama, and the—_

_Nah, I like the part where it makes me want to 'face Ratchet senseless every night._ He chuckled.

Resigning himself to another long shift in the medbay, Wheeljack sat up, knowing that at least he had the joy of focusing his attention on Kimi and keeping her healthy and strong. The instant he stood up, though, a second pain shot through his chest. "No," he whispered, immediately terrified. _If the sparkling tries to separate now, it'll abort! There's no way to save it._

Panicked, he dashed from his quarters, transformed in the hallway, and sped toward medbay, hoping if he could reach Ratchet fast enough, the process could be stopped. ::Wheeljack to Ratchet! Come in! Something is wrong with the sparkling.::

A tendril of fear snaked through their bond, then Ratchet answered over the comm. link. ::You're on your way?::

::Yes!:: The pain had not eased.

::I'll have the equipment ready.::

Wheeljack screeched through the hallways and zoomed into medbay, transforming as soon as he crossed the threshold. He ran to the berth where Ratchet waited and lay down before his bondmate could even speak.

"Cycle air through your vents." Ratchet ran a scanner over his chest. "You need to slow your systems and get your temperature to decrease."

Wheeljack did as ordered. He never argued with Ratchet's repairs to him, and he especially didn't do so when a sparkling was involved. With concentrated effort, he returned his fuel pump to its normal rate. "What's happening?"

Frowning, Ratchet scanned his chest again. "Nothing, really. A few random energy surges, but the sparkling is fine. In fact, it's absorbing the extra energy to make itself stronger."

"Random energy surges? But it—but it felt like . . ." It felt like the pain he'd experienced right before the first sparkling had been extinguished. Suddenly, Wheeljack found his entire frame trembling.

Ratchet glanced around the medbay, but the only mechs present were Jazz and Cliffjumper, both of whom were in stasis lock. Apparently satisfied, he leaned down and pulled Wheeljack into a sitting position, hugging him in the process. "You're fine," he whispered. "You're both fine. I've seen this phenomenon before."

Trying to focus on those comforting words, Wheeljack buried his face in his bondmate's shoulder. "What is it?"

"Stop and consider the timing," Ratchet said quietly. "If our first sparkling had lived, it would have separated today, give or take two orns."

Wheeljack's intakes hitched in shock. It was true. "I-I don't understand."

"They're ghost pains." Ratchet held him close, rubbing one hand soothingly between his winglets. "Your processor recorded the date of your projected separation and is sending out signals even though you no longer need them."

Wheeljack's fear did not abate. "Couldn't that send the new sparkling into early separation? I mean—"

"No," Ratchet interrupted, his voice calm. "The energy surges aren't powerful enough." He kissed his temple. "Trust me. If I thought you or the sparkling were in the slightest shred of danger, I wouldn't let you off this berth for anything."

Finally relaxing, Wheeljack nodded faintly. "I know. It's just_scary._"

Ratchet leaned back and triggered his blast mask open. "Yes, but you also know I'll take care of you. I always have, haven't I?" He smiled. "No matter how many times you blew yourself up."

"And I always forced you to take breaks and rest," Wheeljack said, trying to match his bondmate's teasing tone. Still, he hurt. It depressed him to know he should be welcoming a new spark into the universe but wasn't.

Cupping Wheeljack's cheek in his hand, Ratchet kissed him, his lips warm and soft. It was far gentler than their usual passionate exchanges, but it still held the force of his emotions—a spark filled with compassion and love but also fiery determination. Wheeljack leaned into the kiss, content to let Ratchet lead, to nibble his lower lip, to sip his glossa into his mouth and tease him until a quiet sigh escaped.

The Gestation Protection program surged, demanding extra energy for the sparkling, urging Wheeljack to interface, to let loose his desire and topple Ratchet into the floor. He shuddered at the metal images suddenly flying through his processor.

Ratchet broke the kiss and grinned. "Oops. I seem to have stirred up one of the finer points of your temporary subroutines." His optics flashed with excitement.

"You're hopeless." Wheeljack managed to smile. "I'll get you back for that later."

Ratchet laughed. "I look forward to it!"

oOoOo

Wheeljack pulled Kimi out of the external gestation chamber, nodded to Hoist, then carried her across the room to the cleaning supplies. Once every Earth week, Hoist would wash the chamber and all its connections and relays as well as replace the energon feed lines. In the meantime, Wheeljack would rub down Kimi and clean all her connection ports. She could remain outside the chamber for a breem two or three times an orn, and Prowl made sure to visit and hold her, lovingly caressing her face and whispering to her.

Wheeljack found the sight made him ill.

Having a long-held reputation as the base's most laidback, easy-going mech, Wheeljack knew everyone would be shocked if they knew how he really felt. _He_ was shocked at himself, although Ratchet understood. But he couldn't stop the feelings anyway: he was still jealous—jealous that Prowl had a live, healthy sparkling, that Prowl and Jazz were going to have twins, and that despite a few scares, Prowl and Jazz were basically having an easy time carrying. Wheeljack knew the thoughts were ugly, but he couldn't pretend it didn't hurt. After his scare that morning, he definitely felt no better.

So with mixed emotions, Wheeljack carried Kimi to the corner, sat on the provided chair, and picked up the cleaning cloth. Kimi was kept in forced stasis lock, so she never awakened for her 'baths,' but her warm body and the softly whirling systems always made Wheeljack feel she could wake up at any moment. Jealousy notwithstanding, Wheeljack loved to hold her, and he smiled to himself as he ran the cloth over her black helm with its sensory horns, her tiny blue visor, and her black and white armor.

"You're like a miniature, femme Jazz," he whispered to her, marveling—despite having helped build her body—at how small her hands and face were. "Prowl wouldn't have had it any other way, though, and I bet you'll be spunky." He released his blast mask temporarily, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then cleansed the connection ports.

When he placed her back in her gestation chamber, though, a wave of depression punched Wheeljack straight in the spark. He slumped against the glass, resting his head on the chamber's roof, and just stared at Kimi.

"How did it come to this?" He wasn't sure that he was asking Kimi, even rhetorically, but Hoist had left to run an errand, and Ratchet was in a meeting with Rodimus Prime, Prowl, and Blaster. Rodimus would be leaving with the rest of the Cybertronian contingent to return home that evening.

Although Wheeljack knew he wouldn't get an answer, he continued. "Ratchet and I waited for vorns to have a sparkling. _Vorns._ The only reason we tried was because Ratchet's transfer request was approved. We were going to be permanently stationed here on Earth, or at least as permanently as Optimus could promise in the middle of a war. With the 'Cons so focused on Cybertron again, it should have been safer. It wasn't."

Wheeljack sighed, suddenly too tired to stand any longer, and slid to the floor, keeping his back against the chamber's base. "I was so excited. _We_ were so excited. We suspected my systems would be stronger, so I'd be the carrier, and we were right. It was all going so well."

He knew the Gestation Protection program was intensifying his grief, doubling or tripling all of his emotions, but it didn't make any difference. His sense of loss was greater, even, than it had been when he'd first awakened from stasis lock and discovered the sparkling had extinguished. Coolant gathered in his optics and streaked down his cheeks, behind the blast mask. He buried his face in his hands and tried to hold in the sobs.

A pulse of worry came through his bond with Ratchet, and he could sense his bondmate's determination to reach him. Within a few kliks, Ratchet was running through the medbay doors.

"What's wrong?" He knelt by Wheeljack and pulled him into his arms. "Is this about earlier?"

Wheeljack gave up on controlling his unbalanced emotional subroutines and just sobbed. Ratchet hugged him close, rubbing his back until he calmed down. Once he had stopped crying, though, Wheeljack didn't truly feel calm. He felt _nothing._

"I guess it was triggered by the pains this morning," Wheeljack finally replied, staring at the wall past Ratchet's shoulder. He didn't just feel nothing, he felt like he _was_ nothing. Not real. Not alive.

"Are you okay?" Ratchet asked quietly, no doubt sensing the oddness through their bond.

"No," Wheeljack replied, deciding to be blunt and honest. "But you have to finish that meeting with Rodimus."

"Frag that! You're hurting."

"Finish the meeting." Wheeljack pulled away. "I'll hold it together until then. My shift's almost up anyway, unless we get a sudden onslaught of unexpected casualties."

Ratchet hesitated, then nodded. "But only if you're sure."

"I'm sure."

Looking unconvinced, Ratchet left with a frown. Wheeljack had no doubt he'd try to speed up the meeting. _It doesn't matter,_ he thought, watching his bondmate's retreating back. _Grief can't be sped up, and this pain isn't going to simply go away in an orn or two. I just have to live through it._

Wheeljack forced himself to his feet and glanced over the medbay, exhausted and unimpressed with the work left to be done. He couldn't decide what he even wanted to deal with. All of it seemed meaningless and to require too much effort.

The medbay doors hissed open, and a nervous-looking Mirage hesitated, wrung his hands, then entered. "H-hello, Wheeljack. May I have a moment of your time?"

"Sure." At least he'd be distracted.

Mirage paused, looked back at the door, and then wandered over to the nearest berth. "Could you possibly check something for me?"

Wheeljack joined him and tried to behave normally, if for no other reason than to put Mirage at ease. "Certainly."

Mirage looked at Kimi, at Ratchet's office, at the walls—anywhere except at Wheeljack. "Well, Hound and I have been trying to . . . I mean, when we were attacked several orns ago, I suspect that . . ." He clenched his fists and turned his gaze to the floor. When he finally spoke again, his voice was a whisper. "Would you check and see if I had been carrying a sparkling? I think I was, but I also think I lost it when I got wounded."

A pulse of utter horror lanced through Wheeljack's systems. "W-what?" _Primus, no._ "Sure. Lie down, and I'll have a look."

Mirage did as asked and folded back the armor over his spark chamber. Wheeljack did a visual scan and immediately saw it: the starburst burn mark on the chamber wall that showed a sparkling had been extinguished.

"Ah, Mirage." Wheeljack squeezed his shoulder. He'd never been close friends with the spy, but at that moment he had all the sympathy in the universe for him. "You're right. I can see it clearly."

Growing rigid, Mirage stared in the opposite direction from Wheeljack, but gripped his arm, squeezing in return. "I-I thought so." He didn't speak for long moments. "Could you—I mean, Hound and I tried to spark before we were transferred back to Earth. I was sure I'd ended up a carrier, but I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I went to medbay, but Ratchet wasn't on duty. I got Retractor instead, and he insisted I hadn't been carrying." Mirage met Wheeljack's gaze and frowned. "But I'm sure I was! And Retractor wouldn't even look in my spark chamber. All he did was scan me and verify I wasn't carrying."

"That's cruel." Wheeljack found himself angry on Mirage's behalf. "How could he be so callous? Let me look again."

Mirage nodded, and Wheeljack visually inspected the inner chamber again. Nothing. "Hmm. Let me try a scanner." Wheeljack pulled the necessary tool from subspace and moved it over Mirage's entire chamber, slowly checking for microscopic starburst patterns. "There!" He hovered over the top right corner. "It's tiny, but it's a definite scorch mark. You _have_ carried twice."

Closing his spark chamber abruptly, Mirage jumped off the table, made it five steps, then collapsed to his knees. "_Primus!_ I knew it."

Wheeljack raced to his side and knelt beside him. Seeing the all-too-familiar tears standing in Mirage's optics, he wrapped one arm around his shoulders.

"No one even believed me except Hound," Mirage whispered, clenching his fists against his thighs again. "I didn't have any of the 'right' signs, I hadn't had a verified scan beforehand, there were a thousand reasons I could have experienced chest pain. Retractor didn't listen to a word I said, really, and it was like I wasn't even allowed to _grieve_ because no one but Hound ever believed there was a sparkling to begin with!"

Wheeljack's tanks turned over with the force of his empathy and rage. "That's just sick! How could anyone who calls themselves a medic be so dismissive, so uncaring, so . . ." He ran out of words. "I'm so sorry. _I_ believe you."

Mirage gave him a sad smile. "I'm intensely relieved, but I'm not truly surprised. You're carrying, after all."

Wheeljack heard it and recognized it immediately: jealousy. Just a hint, but it was there. He hesitated, unsure he wanted anyone beyond Prowl, Jazz, First Aid, and Rodimus to know, but ultimately decided it was the best thing he could do. "I also lost a sparkling during Megatron's attack on Autobot City."

Optics wide with shock, Mirage stared at him. "You—you were carrying? When you were so badly injured?" He shook his head sharply. "I'm so sorry! I had no idea." He stared at his lap. "I guess you know how I feel, then."

"Yeah, I do." Wheeljack paused as an idea hit him. "Maybe we should compare experiences or something. Losing a sparkling is not a common thing, and there aren't many 'bots who would understand."

Mirage frowned and nodded. "It would be nice to discuss this with someone who doesn't brush me off. I mean, other than Hound." He met his gaze again. "In that case, we should invite Red Alert, too. I'm just not sure how to tell him I know he lost a sparkling. I'd simply forgotten to turn off my electro-disrupter and walked right in on a conversation between him and Inferno, but I know he has to still be hurting about it."

"Red Alert was carrying?" Wheeljack was shocked.

"Briefly, apparently." Mirage rubbed his temple with his fingers. "And while Hound and I were stationed on Moon Base 1, Smokescreen and Tracks sparked, but Tracks's systems spontaneously extinguished the sparkling after fifteen orns. If you don't mind setting up a conference feed, Tracks might find our discussion useful, too."

Wheeljack stared at him. "I had no idea." _So many hurting 'bots, just like me._ Galvanized into action, he came to a quick decision. "Let's set up a group. If you'll contact Tracks, I'll approach Red Alert. Then we can coordinate a time when we can talk together about these things no one else really understands. I don't know about you, but I seriously thought I was alone in this."

Mirage nodded thoughtfully. "So did I, except for Red Alert, who was clearly not going to tell anyone. I think it's a good idea."

"Then I'll handle Red Alert." Wheeljack smiled to himself. Now he had a project and a plan, something he could focus on. Something that would be helpful.

* * *

_Postscript: After this chapter, I'll be keeping the overlap between "No Quiet" and this story to a minimum. I just needed to get the stage properly arranged before I continued. The idea of starburst pattern for an extinguished sparkling came from Katsuko1987. _

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__Thank you to Shadowhawk7100, Windwalker, Lady Prime, pl2363, Kookaburra, and Sin-Skyeon for their reviews! Also, for the alerts and faves, thank you to Cleargold, Donna Noble, Helana Dreath, Kirtra13, Krxys, OrianPrime92, Sin-Skyeon, X-Brawn, Yami-Yugi3, Zonadow, Coldpaws, D. Mischief, HellsAngel101, Kookaburra, Misao-CG, misswildfire, Raika Katsuya, Shadowhawk7100, and WacheyP87._


	3. Not Alone

_At long last . . ._

_There is some overlap with "No Quiet" in the last scene, but the scene is expanded and from Wheeljack's POV now. As this chapter will end after the final scene in "No Quiet," this will be the last time the two stories overlap. If you read "No Quiet" first, I thank you for your patience._

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* * *

  
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_**Chapter 3: Not Alone**_

Ratchet relaxed in the silence of medbay. Already Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had been in, sporting injuries from their patrol. Even without 'Cons in the vicinity, the Twins didn't seem capable of _not_ getting banged up. Although he gave them a hard time, Ratchet actually enjoyed their company, enjoyed talking with them, and enjoyed being around others, period.

But not today.

Today Ratchet wanted to be alone. The only mech whose presence didn't drain him was his bondmate. Ratchet's near death and recovery, the fatalities from the Battle at Autobot City, the casualties from Cyclonus's recent attack, and Prowl's and Kimi's near deaths—all the stress had exhausted him. Drained him. The loss of their sparkling on top of that had even strained his relationship with Wheeljack at first, and now all Ratchet wanted was to be alone or leave himself in Wheeljack's care.

So when Ratchet heard the medbay's doors hiss open, he had to sigh. Repairs, repairs, repairs. He turned to face the door and steeled himself, trying to find a reserve of strength he knew wasn't present.

Inferno stopped just inside the entrance and crossed his arms. "I guess you know that Red's at Wheeljack's little session right now." He hesitated and glanced around medbay, his gaze falling upon Kimi and sticking there. "I didn't know you and 'Jack had lost a sparklin'."

Ratchet frowned. "I supposed it'll be all over base in a few orns."

"Maybe." Inferno returned his gaze to Ratchet. "But—I mean, I wish . . ." He sighed and walked over to sit on the berth nearest Ratchet, then stared at the floor. "I know I wasn't the carrier. I didn't have the Gestation Protection program or sense a second spark in my chest. I know it's not the same for me, but it still hurts."

Struck by the familiarity of the grief, Ratchet grasped his shoulder. "Yes, it does."

Inferno shuddered and put his face in his hands. "I've been so focused on helping Red I don't think I've grieved. I wasn't sure if I was even allowed to grieve since I wasn't the carrier."

"I understand that. I wouldn't let myself grieve, either." Ratchet paused, suddenly feeling like an idiot. "You know, it made so much sense to me for 'Jack to form this group for Red, Mirage, and Tracks. But I never once stopped to consider that you, me, Hound, and Smokescreen might need to get a few things off our chests, too."

Inferno sighed and propped one elbow on his knee, sinking his face into his hand. "Well, I know I need to. Slaggit, it's such a nightmare watchin' Red clutch his chest and cry. I can feel his pain through our bond." He let his hand drop and shook his head. "I want to fix it, to make it better. But I don't know how except to promise we'll keep tryin'."

"That sounds familiar." Ratchet snorted to himself, struck by the fact that Wheeljack had been the one promising him they'd keep trying, not the other way around. "Ah, frag." He'd admitted to not handling it well, and he'd even apologized to Wheeljack. But until that moment, he'd never considered just how badly he'd failed his bondmate. He grabbed a chair, jerked it over, and sat by Inferno.

Inferno stared at him. "Ya look guilty." He sighed. "Well, I feel guilty, too, like I should have been able to do somethin' to stop this from happenin'. But I know that's illogical."

"Grief isn't logical." Ratchet propped his elbow on the berth and frowned at the floor. After a klik, he activated his external comm. ::Ratchet to Hound.::

::Hound here. Go ahead.::

Inferno watched Ratchet with a look of curiosity.

::Are you on shift?:: Ratchet asked.

::Nope. What'cha need?::

::Report to medbay. You, me, and Inferno need to talk.::

A pause. ::Ah. I'll be right there. Hound out.::

Inferno smiled as Ratchet closed his comm. link. "Not exactly as organized as Wheeljack's version."

"Ironic, isn't it? I'm the one who's—what does Spike call it?—OCD, and 'Jack's usually the absent-minded one." Ratchet smirked.

Inferno laughed, and the relief contained in that laugh was so obvious Ratchet nearly flinched.

The medbay doors hissed open, admitting Hound. "Laughter?" He smiled at them. "This is a good sign." He walked over, sitting beside Inferno on the berth.

Ratchet shook his head. "Well, it's just as well we all admit we have the same problem and stop pretending we're not hurting. You can't laugh without doing that first."

"Fair enough." Hound slumped, his smile vanishing instantly like a discarded mask. "I have to say, I'm tired of smiling when I actually just feel ill. Totally nauseated. I've watched Mirage suffer a lot of things, but this has been the worst. For Primus's sake, the attending medic told him he hadn't even lost a sparkling!"

Ratchet sat up straighter. "What?" He hadn't heard this part. "Who told him that?"

"Retractor, before we transferred here." Hound shook his head. "Mirage _knew_ he'd been carrying, but the glitch wouldn't even do a visual confirmation."

Feeling like going to Cybertron just to beat Retractor senseless, Ratchet hopped up from his chair and began pacing. "That slaggin', half-cocked, pompous excuse for a—" He bit back the string of insults that sprang to mind. "Hound, why didn't you two come to me later? I would have verified it."

"Mirage doubted himself afterward," Hound replied quietly, crossing his arms over his abdomen. "He'd rage awhile, then pretend like nothing had happened. He became moody. Wheeljack verified it, though."

Ratchet knew that much. "Yeah," he sighed.

"Red's been moody, too." Inferno frowned. "I can't say I haven't been, too. I've just been swallowing it is all."

Hound nodded. "Yeah. I feel like I should be strong for Mirage, so I've been acting normally. But I really wanted to bash Retractor's head in. In my own way, I guess I'm just as angry."

Although the mental image of Hound assaulting a fellow Autobot nearly made Ratchet glitch, he found himself chuckling anyway. "I'd love to see that. The mere fact _you_, of all 'bots, were approaching Retractor with dangerous optics would be enough to make him lubricate all over himself."

Inferno and Hound burst into laughter.

Ratchet smiled and sat back down. "So, let's start with you, Hound. Other than beating Retractor senseless, what would you like to get off your chest?"

Hound paused, clearly thinking, and Ratchet felt himself relaxing. _I'm not alone in this. I should contact Smokescreen, too, and the four of us should just get it all out._

When Hound began his story, Ratchet had to suppress a smile, and he understood why Wheeljack had been so happy about forming his group. _Something positive can come from all of this,_ he thought, relieved. _And I can be a part of that._

oOoOo

That evening, as soon as Ratchet entered their quarters, his gaze fell upon Wheeljack, who was lounging on their berth, his body stretched out in a languid invitation. Wheeljack had released his blast mask already and shot a mischievous grin at his bondmate. Ratchet laughed and swooped onto the berth, running his hands under Wheeljack's back and pulling him in for a kiss. Warm arms encircled his shoulders, and Ratchet sighed in relief against Wheeljack's lips.

"Hm?" Wheeljack asked, nibbling his lower lip.

Ratchet smiled and pulled back. "It doesn't matter how many vorns pass, I can never get tired of walking in and seeing you waiting for me."

"You're in a good mood." Wheeljack pulled him close again, kissing him and slipping his glossa into his mouth.

Moaning faintly, Ratchet opened his mouth and rubbed their glossae together. He ran one hand down Wheeljack's back, caressing the hinges of his winglets as he went, and the other up behind his helm.

Wheeljack shivered and pulled away. "Um, maybe we should refuel before we do _that._" He grinned and nodded to the opposite side of the cabin, where two energon cubes sat on their desk.

Laughing, Ratchet stood and retrieved the cubes. "So, you'll be interested to know I had an impromptu counseling session with Inferno and Hound, and it seemed to help them unload a bit. How did your session go?"

"Good." Wheeljack scooted over, giving Ratchet room to sit beside him, and took his cube. "We discussed what feelings and reactions were normal, and at the end we even discussed carrier systems requirements and how to increase the chances of sparking again."

Ratchet slid onto the bed beside him, wrapping one arm around his shoulders as they sipped their suppers. "Sounds like you all made progress, then. I've got to admit, it was helpful, and not just because I realized we're not alone in this. It enabled me to do something progressive, you know? I felt like I was fighting back somehow."

"I know." Wheeljack smiled. "And I think that in the long run, it'll—"

Ratchet's comm. link beeped, interrupting them.

::Rodimus to Ratchet.::

::Ratchet here.:: He exchanged looks with Wheeljack. Their leader sounded abnormally grim.

::We have an infection running rampant, I'm afraid. I've sent a data burst to Teletraan II with all the details. Go over the data and see if you can figure out a cure. Rodimus out.::

Ratchet opened his mouth to ask questions, only to realize the channel was already dead. "Well, that was abrupt." He climbed to his feet and set down his half-empty cube.

"Must be serious." Wheeljack gulped down the rest of his energon, then stood and set aside his cube as well. "Shall we?"

"Certainly." Ratchet rushed out of their quarters and headed to medbay, Wheeljack close behind. As soon as they reached the computer terminal, he retrieved the data packet and played it. The sight of the glowing red mechs fighting each other made his circuits stiffen in fear.

"This isn't good," Wheeljack said quietly, reading over the attached information.

He shook his head. "It's transferred by touch." He opened a panel on his arm and entered a remote code that locked the medbay doors. "We have to make sure no one gets in here. And without a sample of the spores, our only option is to search the medical database for references to a similar outbreak."

"Let's get to work, then." Wheeljack sat in one the chairs and engaged the search software.

Feeling distinctly uneasy, Ratchet joined him, hoping they could figure out a way to stop the infection before it spread further.

oOoOo

The following morning, Wheeljack awakened from recharge and realized he didn't remember losing consciousness. He sat up, finding he'd fallen into recharge at the computer terminal, and stared at Ratchet, who was focused on the screen. "Why did you let me pass out like that?"

"Because you needed it." Ratchet pulled his blaster from subspace and set it in his lap. "You better get out your weapon. I still haven't found any reference to an infection like this, and it's reached epidemic levels. Pandemic, really." He pointed to the screen.

Wheeljack pulled out his blaster and looked at the live feed. The sky spy relayed an image from Moscow, where a mass of glowing humans were punching, kicking, and thrashing each other. A crowd had gathered outside the Kremlin, and Wheeljack didn't like the looks of where things were headed. "Primus! At this rate, we'll be the only ones left who aren't infected." He glanced over his shoulder, where Jazz lay on a berth, still in stasis lock.

Ratchet followed his gaze and stood. "I know. And I don't need to tell you what kind of danger you and Jazz are in." He laid his hand on Jazz's shoulder.

Shuddering, Wheeljack joined him. "I don't even want to think it." He wracked his processor, trying to come up with a plan, some way to protect themselves. "Where is Rodimus? Has he searched the Matrix for a solution?"

"Some strange things happened while you were recharging," Ratchet said. He paused as his comm. link beeped. ::Who is it?:: he demanded, his tone betraying his suspicion.

::Prowl,:: came the answer. ::Bluestreak reports—well, never mind. What is going on?::

::It's insane.:: Ratchet frowned. ::Wheeljack and I have locked ourselves in the medbay. Get your afts here ASAP, and I mean use your top speed. Don't stop to look at or talk to anyone! Ratchet out.:: He closed the link.

"He sounds normal," Wheeljack noted, uneasy.

Ratchet sighed. "We'll need to get a visual confirmation when he gets to the doors. At least the security cameras remain functioning. Still, we'll want to take cover."

Wheeljack nodded and changed the computer to the security feed of the hallway, then joined his bondmate to hover behind the berth farthest from the door. After a klik, he saw five 'bots approaching. "It's Prowl, Bluestreak, Kimi, Sunstreaker, and Sideswipe." He examined them closely. Fortunately, none glowed red, and they acted normally. "They're all clean."

"I'll let them in, then." Ratchet remotely triggered the release. The doors hissed open, and the mechs dashed inside, the doors nearly clipping their heels as they slid shut again and locked. Ratchet and Wheeljack remained crouching behind the farthest berth, both aiming blasters at their visitors.

"Report," Prowl said, frowning and hugging Kimi to his chest.

Ratchet visibly relaxed and lowered his weapon. "Thank Primus none of you are infected. Sorry about the blasters, but we had to be extra careful."

"Infected?" Prowl sounded bemused.

Although he wondered how they had missed the action, Wheeljack stood and turned to the computer, bringing up a live feed of Portland as Prowl joined him. "We're calling it the Hate Plague. It was caused by some spores two human scientists brought back from space."

Ratchet stepped up beside them. "The spores contain a highly contagious viral agent, and the plague is transferred by touch. The last we heard from Rodimus, he'd sent Sky Lynx after a Quintesson for help."

"A Quintesson?" Prowl's optic ridges creased in clear disgust. "But based on what we've learned—"

Ratchet gripped his shoulder. "Don't freeze up on me, Prowl, but the humans brought back more than the spores. They brought back the body of Optimus Prime. I don't know the details. All I know is that Rodimus wants the Quint to revive Optimus in the hopes that he'll know what to do about the plague."

After a moment of collective stunned silence, Sideswipe spoke. "What do we do?"

"Stay put, if we can," Wheeljack replied, trying to be calm and factual despite the feeling of surrealness invading his processor. "If we leave the medbay, we run the risk of being infected." He put his hand over his chest, a wave of fear and anger burning through his circuits. "And I don't need to tell you what would happen to my sparkling if that occurred."

Prowl shuddered. "Okay. We'll hole up here, then." He turned his gaze to his bondmate. "What about Jazz?"

"We have to bring him around, just in case we have to flee." Ratchet grimaced. "Even if he were left in forced stasis lock, if he got infected, Silverstreak would extinguish."

Prowl grew unnaturally still. "No," he whispered. In his arms, Kimi screamed as though she sensed her brother's peril.

Overcome with the need to take control of the crumbling situation, Wheeljack turned pure business. "Blue, Sunny, Sides, you guard the doors. If we're attacked, you'll be our last line of defense. Prowl, you focus on keeping Kimi calm while Ratchet and I bring Jazz around."

Prowl nodded, and the young warriors took position without question. Ratchet gave Wheeljack an odd look, and he could sense his surprise at his abrupt take-charge attitude. Still, he said nothing as they walked to Jazz's berth.

"Here we go," Ratchet said, accessing the appropriate panel in Jazz's chest.

The whirl of systems rebooting filled the air, and then Jazz slowly turned his head toward his bondmate. "Prowler? W-what happened?" His gaze fell on their daughter. "K-kimi!"

"There was too much stress on your systems, so you went into stasis lock," Ratchet explained as Prowl carefully lowered Kimi onto Jazz's chest.

Wheeljack watched as Jazz hugged Kimi and kissed her helm. To his relief, he didn't feel jealous for once. He felt happy for Jazz and knew how amazed he had to be. _Maybe I'm beginning to slowly heal._

"I can feel Silverstreak," Jazz said, inspecting Kimi as though he wanted to memorize her entire body. "He seems fine. Is he fine?"

"For now," Wheeljack said, wanting to reassure him. "In fact, Silverstreak's energy levels are perfectly stable, but we have a completely different problem at the moment." He cringed to himself and then outlined the situation.

"Ah, slag no!" Jazz struggled into a sitting position. "I've made it this far. There's no way I'm losin' my sparklin' right at the end!"

"Careful!" Wheeljack put one hand on his back, supporting him. He knew the Gestation Projection program was fueling Jazz's reaction, but he was afraid he'd strain his systems again.

A _thud_ jarred the medbay doors, and everyone jumped. Angry voices pierced the metal:

"We know you're in there! You can't escape us."

"We'll smash ya ta pieces, ya know!"

Jazz gasped, a sickly, wheezing intake of air. Wheeljack didn't like the sound of it. It sounded far too much like the gasp he'd made right before losing his sparkling. Worried on multiple counts, he turned toward the monitors, which showed him the last sight he wanted to see. "Slaggit! There're five of them, all armed." He glanced back at his companions, unsure how to proceed.

Jazz shoved Kimi at Prowl. "R-r-ratch!"

Prowl grabbed Kimi, and Ratchet picked up a scanner. However, Jazz was already clutching his chest, right over his spark chamber, and Wheeljack knew exactly what he was feeling: sharp pain.

"Lie down," Ratchet ordered, and Jazz slumped back onto the berth, pressing both hands against his chassis. Ratchet scanned his spark chamber.

"_Hurts_," Jazz bit out.

"Too much stress!" Ratchet tossed the scanner aside. "Your sparkling is separating _now_."

"What?" Prowl sounded ready to glitch.

Terrified for Jazz's and Silverstreak's sakes, Wheeljack ran across the room to the storage cabinets, opening the one that contained Silverstreak's protoform. He grabbed the black and white form and rushed back to the berth, standing across from his bondmate.

Ratchet was already in action, using his best calm, authoritative voice. "Jazz, I need you to open your spark chamber for me. The separation is proceeding abnormally quickly. We need to get in there now."

Jazz groaned in pain, but he folded the metal away from his spark chamber. With a sharp inhalation, he grimaced and thrashed on the table, and Wheeljack shifted the protoform, holding it against his left shoulder. Then he placed his right hand on Jazz's shoulder, patting it.

"It's all right." Wheeljack used his most soothing tone of voice. He could see the sparkling pulling away from Jazz's spark, and he decided Jazz might be able to withstand the pain better if he understood what was happening. "What you're feeling is normal. It's the squeezing off the energy tendril that keeps your sparkling attached to your spark. It's causing spikes and surges, but neither of you are being hurt by it, okay?"

"'kay." Jazz's voice sounded wheezy, but he stopped thrashing.

"Take in deep droughts of air through your intakes." Ratchet held his scanner over the sparks, watching intently. "It'll help your systems stay balanced and disperse those surges." He suddenly subspaced the scanner. "'Jack, hand me the padded energy forceps."

Wheeljack scanned the tools for the odd instrument with circular ends, and seeing it, grabbed it and handed it over. "You're almost done," he told Jazz, seeing the tendril of energy fading. "The separation is nearly complete."

Jazz nodded, but then the tendril snapped in and out. Jazz arched off the berth, clenching his jaw, and Wheeljack cringed in sympathy.

The banging on the doors grew louder, and the screech of bending metal ripped through the room.

"They're going to give in!" Bluestreak fell back, putting himself between Jazz's berth and the door and raising his rifle.

Ratchet held the forceps over Jazz's chest, ready to pluck out the sparkling, and Wheeljack could feel his intense concentration through their bond. "Almost there," Wheeljack whispered, leaning closer to Jazz. "Just stay calm."

Jazz sucked ragged breaths through his intakes and gasped as the tendril snapped in and out again.

Voices punctured the weak doors. "Breach it! Kick it in or blast it, just breach it!"

"Almost there," Wheeljack repeated. He kept his voice even for Jazz's sake, but his terror was growing. _No time, no time, no time!_ He glanced toward the doors, only for them to burst inward under the pressure of the insane mechs beyond. The Twins and Bluestreak fired immediately, knocking out the two minibots who rushed through the opening. Wreck-Gar was trying to force his way in behind them.

"Now!" Ratchet yelled.

Wheeljack jerked his attention back to Jazz as Ratchet snapped the forceps into his spark chamber. An astrosecond later, he pulled out a small, blue ball, and Wheeljack held out Silverstreak's protoform. Ratchet shoved the sparkling into its spark chamber and held it there. A few nanokliks passed, and the sparkling brightened, lighting the protoform's spark chamber.

"Got it!" Wheeljack pulled Silverstreak back to his chest as soon as Ratchet removed the forceps. He was immediately distracted, though, by the scuffle at the doors.

"Frag!" Sideswipe tried to dodge Wreck-Gar, but he tackled him to the ground. Upon contact, Sideswipe's body began glowing red.

"'Where's the beef?'" Wreck-Gar asked, sneering, and Sideswipe laughed maniacally.

"Slaggit!" Ratchet pointed to his office. "Prowl! Wheeljack! Barricade yourselves in with Kimi and Silverstreak."

Without argument, Wheeljack ran to the back, frightened and desperate. _No! No, no, no! I'm so close._ He dashed into the office, holding the crying Silverstreak to his chassis. _Please,_ he prayed. _Please, Primus, don't let me lose it now!_

He glanced back to see why Prowl wasn't with him. Prowl was halfway to the office, but the infected mechs were close behind him. Sideswipe attacked Sunstreaker, who howled like a turbowolf as his body illuminated, and Wreck-Gar wrestled Bluestreak to the floor.

Prowl whirled around, and Wheeljack wanted to yell at him to hurry. His hand went to the door lock without his conscious consent, and in that instant, he knew he'd have to lock Prowl out. He'd never make it in time. Wreck-Gar had grabbed Ratchet, and Bluestreak had Jazz. Eight howling mechs pressed in upon Prowl, their crimson glow casting half the room into flickering shadows. Wheeljack locked the door and moved to the office window, sinking to his knees as he watched. _How long until they reach me?_

Apparently frozen in place, Prowl clutched Kimi tightly, and her screams rent the air. Wheeljack felt nauseated, but at least Kimi couldn't be killed by contracting the virus.

Silverstreak's cries turned into screams as well, and Wheeljack hugged him close, feeling all his hope drain away.

_"Light our darkest hour."_ Optimus Prime's voice seemed to echo in Wheeljack's mind, and Silverstreak quieted suddenly. A blue light pierced the room, electrifying the air as it wound its way around the infected mechs, making their bodies shimmer. The madness visibly drained from their optics, the aggression and red glow from their bodies, and they stood staring at Prowl, as though confused as to what had happened.

Wheeljack leaned his helm against the wall, nearly collapsing in relief. _Thank you, Primus._ He slowly cycled air through his vents, trying to calm down. Through the window, he could hear the unmistakable _clang_ that told him Prowl's processor had frozen and sent him into stasis lock.

"Sounds like a good idea," Wheeljack muttered to Silverstreak, then lay back on the floor, clutching the sparkling to his chest. Silverstreak chirped at him, clearly curious, but Wheeljack felt his processor shutting down his systems.

_Too much stress,_ he thought, welcoming the stasis lock.

* * *

_Postscript: Sorry for the horrid delay. I don't normally have that problem, so it took me off-guard._

_Thank you to the following for reviews: Kookaburra, Sin-Skyeon, Illusion224, pl2363, OrianPrime92, and Sslaxx, _


	4. Separation

_A/N: I changed the sparkling's name back to Joyride, which was her name originally when I was writing "No Quiet." Then I realized Joyride was taken (a Powermaster) and changed it. Now I've decided I don't care. So Joyride it is._

_Sitrep=situation report_

_Edit: This website keeps taking out half of Blurr's lines... randomly...and no matter what I do, I can't stop it except by separating his words like normal.  
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* * *

  
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**Chapter 4: Separation**

Ratchet sat by Wheeljack's berth, holding his hand. He'd been in stasis lock for joors, his systems slowly stabilizing, but Ratchet couldn't shake his worry. "I need you both to hang in there," he whispered.

Around him, injured mechs were in stasis lock or recharge for the night. The Hate Plague had left them with eleven patients admitted and seventeen more having been in and out for quick repairs. Now the lights had been lowered for the night, casting the room into a soft blue glow, and the hum and whirl of various mechs' systems filled the air.

Slumping in the chair, Ratchet felt the pull of recharge and knew he would shut down soon whether he wanted to or not. He was considering recharging right there in the chair when the medbay doors hissed open. With a deep sigh, he glanced over his shoulder to see who his next patient would be.

Optimus Prime entered the room, his newly rebuilt armor gleaming even in the low light. "Ratchet," he said in greeting. He walked over and placed his large hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "How's Wheeljack?"

"Resting comfortably," Ratchet replied with a small smile. As far as he knew, Prime had been making the rounds all evening, calming down confused or hysterical mechs and checking up on various situations. Last he had heard, Prime was visiting Prowl, Jazz, and their sparklings.

"And the sparkling?" Optimus gazed down at Wheeljack, and the softness of his tone carried his concern.

Ratchet watched his bondmate's face. He'd retracted the blast mask while he'd worked simply because he liked the way Wheeljack looked without it, and now anyone who entered could see just how handsome he really was. "Strong," he finally replied, reaching out and placing one hand on Wheeljack's chest. "But jarred. The energy tendril connecting the sparkling to his spark is fading slowly, so the separation will no doubt occur early."

"Will that cause a problem?" Optimus knelt beside him.

Ratchet offlined his optics momentarily, basking in the familiar kindness of his leader and friend. Optimus Prime had always cared for each of them individually, treated them like friends. He'd been more like a coach running a team than a military general: confident, wise, fatherly. Even though he thought some 'bots had been too harsh in their judgment of Rodimus, who'd been shoved into a leadership role at a ridiculously young age, he still had missed Optimus's easy charisma.

The hand on Ratchet's shoulder gave him another comforting squeeze, and he onlined his optics again and answered the question. "Joyride will have to spend the rest of her gestation period in an external gestation chamber, but she's strong enough there shouldn't be any complications. We'll just have to be careful."

"Good." Optimus chuckled. "I can hardly believe it. We haven't had a single sparkling in our midst for a hundred of vorns or more, and now I find we have an orphaned youngling, two sparklings, and another on the way."

"Plus three more couples who've tried and failed." Ratchet gave him a small smile.

Optimus's head jerked back in apparent shock. "Three more couples have attempted?"

"Red Alert and Inferno, Mirage and Hound, and Tracks and Smokescreen." Ratchet shook his head. "Apparently they'd all tried prior to the attack on Autobot City, and Mirage and Hound even tried once afterward."

Optimus shook his head. "Good Primus! Why do you think we have a sudden surge of attempts after all this time?"

Ratchet reached out, accessing Wheeljack's power panel and releasing the stasis lock. He was stable enough to be awake, and Ratchet figured he'd want to see Prime. "Well, to be honest, I think it's because we'd made such progress. After vorns of being the losing side, we'd not only gotten the upper hand but also had built bases on the moons. I think mechs had enough hope to try. Past that, I think it's also a purposeful 'up yours' to all the death we've seen."

"Ah. Yes, that makes sense." He gestured to Wheeljack. "You didn't have to bring him online."

"He's stable enough." Ratchet leaned over his mate as Wheeljack's optics flickered on. "Hey, there," he whispered. "How do you feel?"

Wheeljack tipped his head to the side and frowned at him. "Tired, but otherwise okay." His gaze shifted to Prime. "Optimus! Then I wasn't imagining it. I really did hear your voice earlier."

Optimus reached out and patted his arm. "Yes, I'd say you did. It would seem that a desperate Quint reconstructed my internal systems and brought me back online."

"Are you Prime again?" Wheeljack sounded groggy, and his speech was slower than usual.

"Yes. I'm carrying the Matrix again, and Rodimus has returned to being Hot Rod."

Ratchet noted that Optimus failed to mention that the Matrix was empty and that he was carrying it for the purpose of refilling it.

Wheeljack was nodding. "Umm. Good." His words were slightly slurred. "Hot Rod was a good kid, but he was too cowed by your reputation and legacy. He would've figured it out, I think, but I still feel better knowing you're in charge again."

"I thank you for that. Now you just take care of yourself and your sparkling." Optimus stood. "Both of you tell me immediately if you need anything."

"We will," Ratchet replied, smiling as Optimus bade them goodnight and left.

Wheeljack waited until Optimus was gone, then spoke again. "So how bad is it?"

"You'll both be fine." Ratchet sent his assurance and confidence over their bond. "I'll need to go ahead and separate her tomorrow, though."

Wheeljack grimaced. "I understand. Just promise me that if we ever are stupid enough to try this again, _you'll_ carry."

"Fair enough." Ratchet smiled and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "Just relax. This entire nightmare is over."

"It would seem so." Wheeljack parted his lips as though he'd continue, only to gasp sharply. He pressed his free hand to his chest.

Ratchet released him and grabbed a scanner. "Slaggit!" He ran the device over Wheeljack's spark chamber, but he already knew what it would say. The energy tendril had snapped in and out: the separation was occurring _now_.

Heat radiated from Wheeljack's frame, and he panted, trying to cool his systems. "R-ratch-et."

"Hang on for me!" Ratchet raced across the room to the cabinet where Joyride's protoform was stored and threw open his comm. link as he ran. ::First Aid! Get here _on the double_! Wheeljack's undergoing an early separation.::

::On my way!:: came the immediate response.

Pulling Joyride's body from the cabinet, Ratchet wondered if his neural net could survive another sparkling emergency, especially his own. Shoving the thought aside, he ran back to Wheeljack, setting the protoform on the berth beside his bondmate and then rushing for the tool cart. "Talk to me!" he yelled over his shoulder, wanting to keep Wheeljack from going into stasis lock.

"If I survive this," Wheeljack ground out, "I'm gonna apologize to Jazz for not being more helpful during his separation."

"You're going to survive." Ratchet jerked the cart over. "Okay, love. Open your spark chamber for me."

Wheeljack did as asked, but at the same instant, he apparently lost his control over their bond, letting his excruciating pain escape. Ratchet's knee joints bucked as he cried out, and he had to grab the berth to keep from falling.

Behind him, the medbay doors hissed open, and First Aid and Hoist ran over to them. "We're taking over," Hoist said as First Aid guided Ratchet to the nearest berth.

"No!" Ratchet struggled against his apprentice's hold. He'd be damned if he left Wheeljack even for an instant. "I'm not l-leaving his side."

"Ratchet." First Aid's voice was unusually stern. "_Ratchet._"

He understood what First Aid was saying and why, even if he didn't want to. Trying to get his panic and anger under control, he forced himself to stop struggling. "I know. I know."

"Stay by his head." First Aid rushed to assist Hoist, who already had Joyride's spark chamber open and the energy forceps in hand.

Ratchet took position by Wheeljack's head, leaning over him and cupping his cheeks with his hands. "Almost done," he whispered. And indeed it was. Watching the two blue sparks in Wheeljack's chest, Ratchet could see that the energy tendril between them was nearly transparent.

Wheeljack gave him a weak smile. "You are _so_ carrying if there's a next time."

Ratchet chuckled, although it was shaky. "Leave it to you to still have a sense of humor."

"Ready?" Hoist lowered the forceps as the last of the connecting tendril vanished.

First Aid held out Joyride's protoform. "Ready."

Hoist snapped the forceps into Wheeljack's spark chamber, quickly but gently grabbing the sparkling. He transferred the little ball to Joyride's chest, holding it in her spark chamber. Ratchet straightened, watching as the sparkling extended tendrils, searching for a connection. Finding the walls of its new home, it expanded and linked with the conductors. Hoist released the forceps, and Joyride's entire chest briefly lit in a blue glow as the sparkling accepted its body.

But then the spark flickered and paled.

"What?" Ratchet gasped, horrified as the spark shifted green. "She's losing heat!"

First Aid immediately closed Joyride's chest and ran her to the miniature berth they'd installed just for sparklings. "Checking energy readings now," he said, hooking her up to the diagnostic panels.

"Stay calm," Hoist told them both, manually closing Wheeljack's spark chamber. "Remember: this is not uncommon for early separations." He rushed to join First Aid in reading the assessment.

Ratchet nodded. He knew that, and yet he struggled to remain objective. He felt like there were two of him present: one the logical, methodical medic and the other the worried genitor.

"Ratch?" Wheeljack whispered, his fear snaking through their bond.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I _have_ to oversee this." With three quick steps, he stood on First Aid's other side.

"Energy imbalance," First Aid reported, his tone purely business. "Giving her a 0.05 percent charge to stabilize." He pressed the red button on the terminal, sending a surge through the cables now connected to Joyride's chassis.

"No effect," Hoist said, stating the obvious.

Ratchet clenched his fists, knowing that if he could see his daughter's spark it would be nearly yellow. He brutally shut away the panicking genitor and forced the logical medic to the forefront. He could fall apart _after_ the emergency had passed. "Try a mild magnetizing charge. It might help her energy connect to the chamber more thoroughly."

"Yes, sir." First Aid adjusted the settings and hit the button again.

A faint _zap_ pierced the weighty silence, and Ratchet felt static electricity crawl over his armor. _Work!_ he thought, desperate. _Primus, please! I don't want to lose another._

"Ratch?" Wheeljack's voice still wasn't more than a whisper.

Ratchet couldn't turn his optics away from the readout, so he reached through their bond and mentally hugged him. What he saw as the indicator climbed the screen was that Joyride's spark had stabilized but was still weak.

"Trying the heat charge again," First Aid said. "This time 0.10 percent."

_Zap._

Ratchet realized he'd stopped pulling air through his intakes and had put several auxiliary systems on hold. For a moment, the indicator didn't move, then it climbed from the red range slowly toward the green. His relief was so intense he nearly collapsed where he stood.

Hoist and First Aid visibly relaxed, their shoulders dropping. "Thank Primus," Hoist murmured.

"I'll stay with her," First Aid said, patting Ratchet's arm. "You take care of 'Jack."

Ratchet nodded, grateful, and returned to his exhausted bondmate's side, letting him know Joyride was well.

oOoOo

Wheeljack sat in his lab, reviewing the plans for an energy shield that he hoped to erect for Autobot City. He'd recruited Blurr to transfer from the storage room the materials for the working model, and with any luck, within thirty orns, the next 'Cons to attack would find their blasts bouncing off the shield harmlessly. In all, it was an ordinary day.

Except, of course, for the sparkling sitting on his lap.

Blurr zoomed into the room with more supplies. "I can't believe Ratchet lets you keep her in the lab."

Wheeljack chuckled. "I'm not working with explosives. In fact, I'm not working with anything that will go _boom_."

Joyride stared up at him with wide, blue optics. "Booo?" she asked, trying to recreate his sound with her currently limited vocalizer programming.

"_Boom,_" he repeated, encouraging her with a smile. Once she was 45 orns old, he'd be able to upgrade the program. For now, the limited version was all her processor could handle.

"Boooo!" She bounced on his leg, waving her arms.

Blurr laughed. "Isn't that the point though? Even the most innocent things go boom around you."

"Hey!" Wheeljack glanced over his shoulder, prepared to deliver a comeback, but Blurr had already zipped out of the room. Joyride laughed, and he looked back at her with a grin. "I know," he said. "It's why I gave you such tough armor . . . just in case."

She chirped at him, tilting her head in an inquisitive fashion, and he hugged her. Seeing her alive and animated-and out of the gestation chamber-had a profound effect on him, and Carly, who was up for a weekend visit, had said something about Joyride having Ratchet and him 'wrapped around her little finger.' Wheeljack wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, but he did think his sparkling was gorgeous. Her red and green racing stripes set off her white armor beautifully, and her red chevron provided an eye-catching contrast to her pale grey face and white helm. What struck him most, though, was that she truly looked as though she were a mix of Ratchet and himself.

"Something tells me your curiosity will get you in a mass of trouble," he teased her. "And then you'll use that adorable innocent expression of yours to worm your way out of it." He chuckled, imagining Joyride playing with equipment in his lab or the medbay, dreaming up projects or experiments of her own, but he kept those thoughts to himself, wanting her to choose her own path.

A sudden voice interrupted him from the doorway. "Are ya doin' work or just worshippin' yer sparklin'?"

Wheeljack glanced at Jazz, ready to return the teasing, only to see he was holding Silverstreak on his hip. "Maybe I should ask the same of you."

Jazz laughed and crossed the room. "Guilty as charged." As he drew nearer, Silverstreak held out his hands, as though reaching for Joyride. Joyride chirped at him and reached back.

Gazing at Silverstreak, Wheeljack decided that he looked much like a miniature Prowl with the black and white swapped. Then again, he assumed Jazz had suggested the design and colors with his mate in mind, and perhaps Bluestreak as well, since Silverstreak had been named in honor of his 'older brother.' "Blue couldn't babysit today?" he asked.

"He's on patrol." Jazz sighed as he knelt in front of Wheeljack and then helped Silverstreak to stand on his leg. The sparkling flicked his doorwings in excitement and clasped hands with Joyride, who squealed in pleasure.

"Hoist, Grapple, and Perceptor are all on duty as well," Wheeljack said. "Until we finish cleaning up the mess the Hate Plague made, I'm not sure we _can_ come by any babysitters."

Jazz grinned. "It's problematic. I can't get off of monitor duty as long as I'm watchin' a sparklin' at the same time. But watchin' Prowl on duty, tryin' to look all professional while holdin' a sparklin', makes it all worthwhile."

Having seen their taciturn SIC levying orders while holding a recharging sparkling against his chest, Wheeljack had to laugh. "It's true. I'm sure he thinks it's undermined his reputation, but I think it's helped it instead. Everyone seems a touch more comfortable around him now."

"That's what I keep tellin' 'im." Jazz chuckled at Silverstreak and Joyride, who seemed to be playing some odd game that involved smacking their palms together to random rhythms. Silverstreak glanced over his shoulder and chirped at him, clearly asking a wordless question. "Yer cute," Jazz replied.

Without warning, the red alert alarm blasted through the base's speakers, making them all jump. Silverstreak's doorwings lifted high on his back, and Joyride shrank back against Wheeljack's chassis and whimpered.

"What the fr-er, now?" Jazz asked, but before he could activate his comm. link, Prowl's voice came over the speakers.

::Red alert. Decepticon attack underway. All personnel to battle stations.::

As though to underscore his words, the base shook from missile impacts, and Silverstreak and Joyride began crying.

Wheeljack held out his free arm. "Leave him with me. You need to be free to move. I'm reporting to medbay."

Jazz paused, then set Silverstreak in his lap. "Thanks, man."

A tension radiated between them, and Wheeljack suspected they both wondered how smart they'd been to have offspring during a war. Wheeljack gave him a small nod of encouragement, though, and Jazz returned it before racing from the lab.

Wheeljack held both sparklings close to his chest as he stood and made his way to medbay. "It's okay," he told them in a calm voice. "No one's going to hurt you."

He entered medbay just behind Blurr, who'd apparently been ordered to collect Kimi and bring her to medbay as well.

"WhereshouldIputher?" he was asking Ratchet.

Wheeljack answered for him. "Over here." He led Blurr to a large supply storage closet that he and Grapple had reinforced to double as a bunker. A modified playpen had been installed in the back corner, one that would keep the sparklings from climbing out.

After Blurr lowered Kimi into the pen, Wheeljack set Silverstreak and Joyride down beside her and then hesitated. He had medical skills, so he really needed to be on duty; however, the sparklings couldn't be left alone. He cringed, looking down at their upturned faces and teary optics.

Someone tapped his shoulder, giving him a start, and he turned to find Hound. "Hey," he said, indicating the steel pins holding his knee joint together. "I can't help fight, so let me watch them. You attend to the patients, okay?"

Wheeljack squeezed his shoulder gratefully. "Thanks, Hound." He raced into medbay, where Ratchet and Hoist were helping the remaining two Hate Plague victims, Cliffjumper and Cosmos, move to berths on the side lines, and First Aid was gathering surgical supplies for new patients.

Grapple rushed into the bay, looking harried. "My apologies! I was held up in the command center. Seems that Galvatron has had Soundwave hack Teletraan II from a remote access point, and Perceptor is struggling to get him shut out."

Wheeljack barely heard Ratchet's curses. _Soundwave got past our firewalls and defenses? Primus! How?_ "I'm going to the command center!" he yelled, running out of the room before anyone could respond. Lightspeed and he had been the primary programmers for Teletraan II, with some help from Rewind and Perceptor. Still, of all the mechs present, he knew Teletraan II's systems best. He knew he'd be their best hope at stopping Soundwave quickly.

_::'Jack?::_ came Ratchet's inquiry over their bond.

_::Gotta get Soundwave out of Teletraan,::_ Wheeljack replied, and feeling his mate's understanding, he didn't explain further.

He arrived at the command center to the sounds of yelling and cursing. Blaster, Jazz, and Prowl were all at separate terminals, issuing orders, while Rewind and Perceptor worked at yet another two terminals, clearly fighting the cyber invasion.

"Sitrep?" Wheeljack asked as he joined them.

Perceptor glanced at him briefly. "It would seem that Soundwave has resorted to hacking one of our orbital satellites in order to avoid being stopped in person. Careful preparation was clearly made, as we have been unable to reinstate our firewalls and-"

"If we don't stop him," Rewind interrupted gently, "he's going to access all our gun batteries as well and no doubt turn them against us. As it is, he's destroyed all our ground-to-air defenses, and he's started encrypting our own network and shutting us out."

"Run the Data S.H.I.E.L.D. program," Wheeljack told Rewind, then caught Perceptor's attention. "Disconnect Teletraan from all of Autobot City's peripheral systems."

Perceptor's fingers seemed to fly over the keys. "Done." He frowned. "Unfortunately, this won't be enough to stop him."

"I know." Wheeljack sat at one of the two remaining terminals, glanced around to make sure everyone was otherwise engaged, and then did the only thing he knew to do: he pulled a cord from his wrist and connected himself directly to Teletraan II.

_Perhaps not my smartest idea,_ he thought as his systems began synching. _But I'm going to have to fight Soundwave mind-to-mind._ He smiled sadly, hoping his gamble wouldn't end in one of his famous _booms_ but also knowing he'd do anything to ensure Joyride's ultimate safety.

Losing touch with his external sensors, Wheeljack found his mind fully immersed in Teletraan II's programming. Streams of data arched around him as indigo binary numbers and turquoise Cybertronian glyphs, not unlike interfacing with a partner, and Wheeljack took a moment to imagine himself present in body. Teletraan reacted to the request for a visual cue, and then Wheeljack reached up with a 'hand', which he could now 'see', and ran his fingers over the glyphs of the Data S.H.I.E.L.D. program as it hurtled past him like a bullet train.

Feeling oriented, Wheeljack rushed forward, following a data pathway toward a black spot surrounded with a crimson aura. _Must be where Soundwave is doing damage,_ he thought, erecting every firewall and virus protection program he had, including several experimental ones.

The data shifted abruptly, portrayed visually to his processor as his falling into a black well. As he landed, the 'air' around him seemed filled with a crimson fog. He whirled around, searching in 360 degrees through the well/data, looking for Soundwave-

Who was suddenly 'standing' in front of him.

"Interference: unwelcome." Soundwave's hands shot outward, grabbing Wheeljack by the neck and squeezing.

Realizing it meant Soundwave was trying to choke off his connection to Teletraan, Wheeljack grabbed Soundwave's neck and squeezed as well. Without the constraints of reality stopping him, Wheeljack began to kick at Soundwave with both his legs, a virtual representation of attacking the Decepticon's presence. Soundwave growled, his visor glowing brighter red, and then a voice echoed deep in Wheeljack's processor.

_Resistance: useless,_ Soundwave said, launching his telepathic assault. His words began to flow differently. _Your mind can never hope to defeat mine. I will unravel you like substandard programming._

Ignoring the words, Wheeljack exerted more pressure on Soundwave's neck. In essence, his victory was entirely pinned on being able to 'choke' off Soundwave's access to Teletraan first. And as Soundwave peeled back the layers of his mind, unspooling the images from his memory banks and distorting them, that single goal was all he had left.

Fear after fear surfaced to torment him. Death. It was all about death: Ratchet in intensive care, chest burnt through, Joyride on the verge of dying moments after separation . . .

_He was running, scrambling, through golden streets, deep black burns cutting down the walls of the dormitories he passed. Sirens wailed. Mechs screamed. Seekers, their engines shrieking with the strain, hurtling toward them in another dive-bomb run. Who was this 'Megatron'? Why were the Seekers attacking them?_

_The academy never seemed so huge. Where was the hospital? He should know; he'd been there enough. All he could see was the smile of the intern who seemed to always be on rotation when he was hurt. A handsome 'bot, lovely red paint, an ex-classmate he'd stared at during mechanoid anatomy. 'I just defended my dissertation,' he would say. 'I might not be a medic, but I can help!'_

_And he did want to help, but that wasn't the only reason. He wanted to make sure Ratchet was alive. That he hadn't been killed on a sidewalk somewhere, his body smoking and burning just like the mechs Wheeljack now ran past-_

_who were already dead. All of them. This had to be a declaration of war. How many thousands more would he see die if so? Could he keep the mech he was falling in love with from being one of them?_

Wheeljack tore Soundwave out of the memory he was accessing, knowing he meant to use the fear to build on, to exploit, to incapacitate him with. "No," he ground out, landing a savage chest against Soundwave's torso, causing the telepath's grip on his throat to lessen faintly. If he could only-

_Wheeljack ran through the halls, careful not to slip on spilt energon and oil. He'd stayed by Ratchet's side for twelve joors, helping him treat patients. As a senior intern, Ratchet had been set loose without supervision as the casualties poured in. Before long, even beginning interns were performing surgeries alone, sometimes out in the hallway. A stack of dead bodies began piling up in the waiting room. Wheeljack had ignored it all, pushing the horror away and focusing on the brilliant intern who struggled to save as many lives as he could._

_But during the past joor, they'd become separated. The influx of injured had finally reduced to a trickle, and Wheeljack had been recruited to carry out dead bodies. But he'd begun to get a bad feeling when he'd stopped seeing Ratchet whisking between rooms, and he felt he needed to find him._

_He slid to a stop by a supply closet, realizing he'd only been checking rooms. What if Ratchet had decided he needed a moment alone? After nearly fourteen joors of intense surgeries, he might be nearly at the breakdown point. After all, none of them had ever seen so much carnage at once. Wheeljack opened the closet door and found himself unsurprised to see Ratchet, almost curled in on himself, sitting on the floor._

_"Ratchet?" he whispered, closing the door and sinking down beside him. The closet light provided a faint glow of illumination._

_And that's when he realized that Ratchet was holding a sparkling. She had a black chevron, similar to Ratchet's own, and golden and black paint that was slowly being overcome by grey. A small hole pierced her chest._

_"I cleaned her up," Ratchet whispered, not looking up. "Her genitor brought her in, begging for help. He literally dropped dead the instant we promised to treat her." He stared listlessly at the tiny body. "I couldn't save her." He traced one fingertip over her face. "I don't even know her name."_

_Wheeljack leaned close, pulling Ratchet into his arms and hurting with a pain he had no words for. Rage, grief, fear . . . an endless swirl of emotions, built up over the orn and capped with the horror of what he now saw. He'd lost his creator shortly after entering the academy, so he knew better than to use trite offerings of comfort. He was in this hell with Ratchet, so he knew could never again use trite words. "We'll name her," he whispered back. "We'll name her and bury her with her genitor."_

_Ratchet nodded wordlessly against his shoulder._

_Wheeljack pulled back slightly, staring at the dead sparkling. But suddenly she was white, red, and green, and he and Ratchet were much older._

_Ratchet stared up at him with dimly lit optics. "We lost her, 'Jack. Joyride . . . the 'Cons . . ."_

Wheeljack rejected the vision with his entire spark, flailing at Soundwave's mind with his anger and fear, pushing back with his experimental defenses, and refusing to back down. "Slaggin' glitch!" He bore down on Soundwave's neck with all his mental strength. "Don't you dare show me a thing like that! I will never let you fraggers hurt her, not ever!"

Soundwave staggered backwards under the brute force of the attack, releasing his grip on Wheeljack.

"Out, damn you!" Wheeljack punched him in the abdomen, pouring every program in his processor behind his 'fist.' "Get out!"

Soundwave's image flickered, then snapped out. The black well vanished also, leaving Wheeljack floating in a turquoise space of nothingness. A line of binary code, shining indigo against its surroundings, arced lazily past him.

A warning popped up in Wheeljack's processor. "Slag . . ." He could feel all his remaining energy draining from him. He could feel the 'tears' in his own programs where Soundwave had attacked. "This is not good."

As the virtual world around him faded, he tried to cry out to Ratchet and Joyride over their bonds, but the words died in his spark, unheard.

* * *

_Postscript: I'm terribly sorry. I got severely hung on one of the scenes here and couldn't get through it._

_One more chapter to go! I've already written it. It's with the beta right now._


	5. Epilogue

**Epilogue **

Hound cringed as Autobot City shook from missile impacts and carefully knelt on the floor by the sparklings' playpen. After the Hate Plague incident, Ratchet and Hoist had experienced trouble getting the parts to replace his knee, leaving him barely mobile and unable to transform. If he couldn't fight, he'd figured the least he could do was watch the sparklings. But now three tear-streaked faces stared up at him, along with two sets of overly-wide optics and one overly-bright visor.

"Primus," he muttered, feeling almost like crying with them. "It's okay!"

Silverstreak and Kimi cowered in one of the pen's corners, hugging each other tight while Joyride clung to the edge. As Autobot City shook under the ferocity of the assault, they all shrieked, coolant running down their cheeks. Hound reached into the pen, stroking their backs, trying to calm them if only a little.

"Sounds worse than it is," he said, running a hand over Silverstreak's trembling doorwings.

"Da," Silverstreak cried. "Daaaaaa!"

Knowing their vocalizer programming was currently limited, Hound assumed Silverstreak was calling for his 'dad,' and that likely meant Jazz since he had been his carrier. "You'll be back with him before you know it," he promised Silverstreak.

Wide, wide blue optics stared up at him. "Daaaaa!"

Kimi's visor flashed as she hugged her brother. "Fa! Faaaaa!"

"Oh, boy." Hound rubbed her head, careful not to irritate her sensory horns. "Your father can't be here right now, either." Yet even as he said the words, he opened a comm. link to Jazz. ::Hound to Jazz. Do you read me?::

The whine of laser fire echoed through the link. ::I read ya. What's up?:: He sounded tense, jumpy.

::Your sparklings are getting increasingly upset. I'm beginning to think they need one of you here.:: Hound transferred his attention to Joyride, tracing her red chevron and then wiping the coolant from her grey cheeks.

::Slaggit . . . I know! I can feel how upset they are.:: A pause. ::Where are ya?::

::Medbay, in that reinforced closet.:: Hound grimaced as a thundering _boom_ shook the fort. The sparklings whimpered.

Jazz cursed again. ::I'm comin'! Jazz out.::

Relieved, Hound smiled at the twins. "Your 'dad' is on his way."

"Boo?" Joyride asked.

Hound wasn't sure he wanted to know what 'boo' was supposed to mean. "Boo?"

Joyride smacked her hands together. "Boo!" She tilted her head, staring at him with wide optics.

_You call 'Jack "Boom"?_ Hound thought, horrified. "He's just outside the door." He pointed to the closed closet door. "He's helping others, okay?"

Joyride seemed to ponder this, then chirped and nodded her head once. "Daaa?"

"Also helping others." Hound hoped he could keep them distracted until Jazz arrived.

However, Joyride suddenly grew stiff, her optics flaring brightly. She gripped the pen's edge brutally. "Booo!" she screamed. "Boooooo!" She burst into tears, wailing loudly.

Hound did _not_ like what that portended. He picked her up and hugged her closely, rocking her and rubbing her back, but her tears didn't stop.

oOoOo

Ratchet raced through the halls, emergency repair kit in hand. Something was wrong with Wheeljack; he could _feel_ it. The sensations he'd gotten over the bond had been odd at best, but there was no mistaking it: Wheeljack had done something dangerous.

He skidded into the command room just in time to see Wheeljack fall to the floor. Perceptor was already kneeling at his side, exclaiming something about Soundwave. Ratchet ignored it as his entire universe narrowed to Wheeljack's unconscious body.

"Primus!" He raced to his side, dropping his kit to the floor as he knelt opposite Perceptor. He pulled a scanner from his subspace and ran it over Wheeljack's head and chest. "Coding errors. A virus. Low energy. What did he do?"

"Saved us," Perceptor whispered.

Ratchet handed him a coding machine without acknowledging the comment. "Jack this straight into his central processor and start fixing that code. I'll work on the virus." How many emergencies had he had like this one? Millions? How many times had he been forced to do repairs and surgery on his bondmate?

But now it was different: it wasn't just that Ratchet would be crushed by grief and then die from the breaking of the bond. Joyride would be orphaned. And yet it was what he'd wanted. He'd gone out of his way to convince Wheeljack, he remembered.

_"Us? Have a sparkling?" Wheeljack had laughed. "I can just see that! I'd blow it up. You'd throw wrenches at it. It'd cuss out adult mechs ten times its size and probably be scary enough to terrorize the twins."_

_"See?" Ratchet had smiled. "That's a good reason all by itself."_

Ratchet pulled out the tube for an energon feed while the anti-viral machine synched with Wheeljack's systems and launched its program. "Live, slaggit!" He hooked the tube into the fuel line in Wheeljack's arm. _I need you to live. We both do._

But it was worse than that, really. Perceptor could likely fix the code and stop Wheeljack from being permanently deactivated, but the virus might do lasting damage to his processor, memory banks, or systems. _Live and be healthy!_ Ratchet thought, horrified.

"I have it." Perceptor typed in several lines of code, then unattached the machine. "Do you have the virus?"

Ratchet frowned, watching the file names flash across the tiny screen. "Not yet." Seventy-four percent of the files had been scanned. Seventy-five percent. Seventy-six. "Why hasn't it detected it yet?" Seventy-seven. Seventy-eight . . .

The screen flashed red: _Virus detected. Damage threat: alpha. Quarantined._

"Primus." Ratchet couldn't be relieved until the virus had been destroyed. With a few typed commands, he initiated the cleaning sequence. "How did this happen?"

"Soundwave." Perceptor frowned. "By the looks of it, Wheeljack went into the system and purged Soundwave himself."

Ratchet stared at him in shock. A beep drew his attention to the screen's display, which was now green: _Virus removed._

Wheeljack groaned, his optics slowly lighting. "Did I stop him in time?"

Unable to help himself, Ratchet leaned into his face. "Quick trying to be a fraggin' hero!"

However, Wheeljack simply chuckled.

oOoOo

Wheeljack sat propped up in his berth, relaxing in the quarters he shared with Ratchet. His bondmate sat on the floor, playing a game with Joyride, Kimi, and Silverstreak. As far as he could tell, the game involved matching color-coded patterns of numbers together, but having just awakened from recharge, he couldn't be too sure.

"I can tell you're Prowl's," Ratchet murmured as Kimi held up her completed puzzle. Silverstreak looked more like he was plotting something nefarious than concentrating on the game, but Joyride held up her finished datapad as well. "Good job!"

"This is going to blow your intimidating reputation to pieces," Wheeljack said.

Ratchet jumped faintly and glanced at him. "Sorry. I was so involved with them I didn't realize you were awake. How do you feel?"

"Fine. Normal, basically." Wheeljack smiled, momentarily awed by their long history together. They'd met when Ratchet had treated his injuries from a classroom experiment gone wrong. Millions of stellar cycles later, they were bonded and sparked . . .

And Ratchet was still putting him back together regularly.

"Ain't that the truth," Ratchet said, smirking.

"No cheating through the bond," Wheeljack said, much amused.

The door comm. buzzed, and Prowl and Jazz entered as soon as Ratchet triggered open the door for them.

"How're my favorite lil' sparklings?" Jazz asked, kneeling and swooping up Kimi and Silverstreak, who giggled and hugged him.

Prowl nodded to Ratchet. "Thank you for watching them. I know three are a lot at once."

"I plan to collect on it." Ratchet snickered.

A small smile bent up one corner of Prowl's mouth, but when Jazz stood up, Prowl's smile actually bloomed. Silverstreak held out his arms for Prowl, who took him and hugged him tightly. "Were Kimi and you well-behaved?" he asked softly. "Or did you plot evil strategies and cause trouble?"

"Evil strategies?" Wheeljack asked, wondering what he had missed.

Jazz was chuckling. "Oh, poor Hound an' Mirage. They still haven't gotten all that green paint off their floor."

Wheeljack decided he didn't want to know.

Once Prowl and Jazz left with their sparklings in tow, Ratchet picked up Joyride and joined Wheeljack on the berth.

"We really did make it," Wheeljack murmured as Joyride stretched across their laps.

"We did. I'm glad you wouldn't let us give up." Ratchet ran his hand down Joyride's back, urging her to take a nap.

Wheeljack sighed as he and Ratchet leaned against each other. "Now if we can just avoid harrowing 'Con attacks and hate plagues for a few orns . . ."

Ratchet snorted. "And if you can manage not to blow yourself or our sparkling up . . ."

". . . but then it just won't be life among the Autobots." Wheeljack laughed.

* * *

_Postscript: I hope I never again have a story get snagged in the middle like this one did._

_Thank you to pl2363 and Sslaxx for beta reading!_

_Thank you to the following for reviews: Shizuka Taiyou, Kaeda Akira, OrianPrime92, Sergeant Duck, Vigatus, and Dvana. I appreciate everyone's patience._


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